Animal in You
by soulsearchingeyes
Summary: Padfoot is on the run until a certain Muggleborn adopts the stray. Hermione Granger's heart is broken when she realizes that her new pup cannot join her for her third year at Hogwarts. While she can only see Padfoot during breaks, her new kneazle Crookshanks fills the void during the school year. Who knew that a dog and a kneazle could have the same piercing grey eyes?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I take no credit for her work. Excerpts from her books are included periodically to keep this fanfic somewhat close to canon. I own nothing.

* * *

Hermione sat in the passenger's seat of her father's car. Waterdrops trickled down the window. It was nearing the end of summer and the weather reflected that. While Hermione's heart longed to spend all day everyday lounging by the pool, she really missed her boys. Harry and Ron were awful pen pals. She sent them letters detailing how her summer had gone and she expected the same in return. Harry's responses were understandably short. As far as she could tell, his aunt and uncle were still being less than pleasant. However, Ron was raised in a wizarding household where owl delivered letters were the norm. There was no reason for him to ignore her letters and only respond by trying to play hangman with her.

Hermione's eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat as she watched vehicles before her swerve. A large black dog attempted to weave through the traffic, narrowly evading the cars. Horns were blaring as drivers yelled at the dog to get out of the road. The van in front of them came to a stop and honked at the cowering dog.

Her father heaved a sigh. "That poor dog. Look at him, Mione. He's nothing but fur and bones."

Hermione nodded, her brow furrowed. "I have to help him, Dad."

"Sweetheart, it's rush hour," he tried to reason.

"I have to help him," she repeated, adrenaline and anger filling her.

Hermione swung the passenger door open and hopped out of her seat. Her sandals made loud "FLOP"s in the rain puddles as she ran to the dog. His head was bowed and his tail was between his legs. His hunched over body displayed the skin that appeared strained against his protruding spine. He stumbled forward and collapsed.

The van honked. "Oh, why don't you shut up?" Hermione shouted at the driver.

Hermione stopped two feet from the dog and crouched down, her hand outreached in front of her.

"Come here, love. I won't hurt you," she softly cooed. Her fingers brushed off her hair that stuck to her forehead. The large black mass raised its head to her. His piercing grey eyes met her brown ones. Hermione saw the pain behind them. She had a feeling that he had been on the run for a while.

"I'll take care of you. I'll protect you."

The dog never broke eye contact with her as he limped to her. Hermione quickly accessed his health. His toenails were overgrown and curved. His long, black fur was matted at the ends, and frankly he smelled like…well…shit.

"Good boy," she told him as he fell into her arms.

Hermione closed her arms around him and lifted him up with a loud grunt. In the embrace she felt all of his ribs. His heart was hammering under her palm. Amidst the sound of traffic, she carried him to the back to her car and into the backseat. His body weight didn't even cause the leather to deepen. Hermione shut the door and resumed her place in the passenger seat. She heaved a sigh as she pulled her wet locks into a bun. Her father simply put the car in drive and continued with the flow of traffic.

He broke the silence, "Yes."

"What?"

"Yes. We can keep him," he answered her unspoken question.

Hermione gazed up at her father, his image distorted through the tears that welled in her eyes.

"Hermione," her father began, "when have I ever told you "no"?"

She gave him a watery smile and reached behind her to pet her dog.

* * *

"You're so handsome. Yes, you are. You're going to look like a new pup after I'm done with you."

Padfoot sighed, causing bubbles to blow into the air.

"I don't have any dog shampoo, but this shampoo is natural so hopefully it doesn't mess with your pH balance too much. Even if it did, I'm not sure that you would care. You seem pretty content."

The dog's head rested on the edge of the bath. His eyes closed and his breathing was low and relaxed. The aroma of lavender and chamomile wafted in the air. Padfoot hadn't felt warmth like this in years. The heat radiated through his bones and into his soul. He focused on the girl's soapy fingers that massaged into his fur, working out tension and dirt. Hermione wondered when the last time he had bathed was. Judging by the drastic color change in the water, she'd imagine he hadn't been taken care of in years or even at all. It broke her heart that someone could neglect an animal to this degree, especially a dog as sweet as him.

"We're going to have to figure out a name for you," Hermione told him, rambling as she rinsed him. She did a lot of talking, Padfoot noted. The girl never seemed to shut up. She had confided to him how lonely being an only child was, how much she loved animals, and how she was excited to finally have a pet. Padfoot wasn't quite sure what he has gotten himself into, but he was appreciative that she had found him. If it hadn't been for her, he was certain that a Muggle would have ran him over.

"Are you ready to get out soon? It's almost been an hour." Padfoot gave no sign that he heard her. "Don't you want food?" His ears perked up. He stood with newfound energy, hopped out of the tub, and shook himself. Water droplets flew everywhere, soaking Hermione. She threw her head back and laughed, her eyes sparkling. She dried him with her favorite towel before leading him to her bedroom.

"I'll be right back with your dinner."

Padfoot wasn't thrilled to eat dog food. He had eaten it before (on a dare, mind you) and it wasn't all that great. However, his stomach was clenched so tightly that he would have eaten his own tail at the moment if he could have reached it (he had also tried that on a different dare.)

Nothing could have prepared Padfoot for what Hermione had placed before him.

"My mom read somewhere that bland chicken and rice were good for dogs with upset stomachs. There are some soft carrots, too," she smiled at him and sat on the floor beside him. Padfoot looked at the food on a paper plate before him, and then cocking his head at her. I've hit the jackpot, he thought, and promptly began licking her face with ferocity.

Hermione threw her hands up in a futile defense. "Stop it! You're welcome! You're welcome! Down!" She squealed in between giggles.

Padfoot finally stopped when he remembered the food. He had never experienced Thanksgiving before. It was Muggle and American, so his knowledge of it was little to none, but he imagined that the plate before him could have been basically the same thing.

Padfoot devoured the chicken, ignoring all words of caution from the curly-haired teen. She pet him as he ate, admiring his long black fur. All too soon the food was gone. Padfoot turned his attention to the bowl of water. If someone had merely been eavesdropping on him, they would have assumed that a horse was drinking because of how loud he was. Finally satiated with water and drool dripping from his mouth, he turned back to the girl and threw himself in her lap. She leaned away for him for a moment and before Padfoot knew it, she was blow-drying his fur. _I'm in the lap of luxury!_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I take no credit for her work. Excerpts from her books are included periodically to keep this fanfic somewhat close to canon. I own nothing.

* * *

The next few days of Hermione's summer were the best of her life. She couldn't even remember what she did before she had a dog. He was perfect. He was house trained, didn't make any messes or tear up the house, and was ridiculously obedient. She could not believe how smart he was. It was a little eerie just how well he seemed to understand her. It was nice to have someone to talk to, but his reactions were almost human.

"Red or green?" She asked and held a colored pen in each hand.

 _Obviously red._ Padfoot huffed.

"Red?"

The dog gave out a short bark.

Hermione smiled and pet his head. "That's what I was going to choose!"

"Harry's birthday is tomorrow. I'm going to send him a birthday card tonight though. I don't want his relatives to see the card or gift."

Padfoot sighed softly. He was laying on top of the girl's bed with his head rested on his crossed paws. He watched her fret about her room. She was a funny girl. Despite his first impression of her, he thought that she was probably considered a quiet person. While she was constantly going on tangents to him, she would spend hours reading silently in the living room with her parents. However, the second her parents said something that sparked her interest, her eyes would light up and she would spend a solid ten minutes rambling or debating with them. Then she went back to silence once more. Hermione always seemed deep in thought during these silences. If she were a witch, Padfoot would have pegged her as a Ravenclaw.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" she began aloud. "Turning 13 is exciting! I know that when you see my gift that you'll roll your eyes. It's a notebook. As much as I love seeing you and Ron leave food stains on my notes, I think that this year we should mix it up and you two ruin your own notes instead!"

Padfoot held in a laugh. _Ravenclaw!_

"On an unrelated note: I'm really worried about you. If things get bad Harry, please don't hesitate to spend the rest of the summer with me. My parents love you and would love to have you over. I also have a dog that I want you to meet! With love, Hermione."

She taped her letter to a gold and red package before leaving the bedroom. I like her even more now.

She was incredibly kind to him. He was fed variations of chicken, rice, and vegetables. He assumed that his owners were eventually going to wean him onto dog kibble, which he was not looking forward to. Padfoot was pretty sure that the water they gave him was bottled, too. Hermione also took him on walks daily. The walks left Padfoot sore. It made him realize just how much muscle mass he had lost. Hell, he was locked in a 6x6 cell for 12 years. And he was 6'2"! It was awful!

When Hermione returned to her room, she came over and plopped herself alongside him on the bed. The lights were still on and she hadn't changed into her pajamas yet, but Padfoot could tell by the way that her eyes were fluttering close that she was about to fall asleep. This was the latest that he had ever seen her stay up.

 _11:30pm? Wow. She's quite the party animal._

Padfoot inwardly chuckled as he moved to make his way to the foot of the bed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something brown sticking out of her hair.

 _A feather?_

He immediately scrambled to her and inspected the feather

 _An owl feather? AN OWL FEATHER!_

He barked at the girl and stuck his butt into the air, his tail wagging rapidly. Hermione rolled over so that her back was to him and grumpily shooed him away.

He jumped off the bed and immediately began inspecting the room with new eyes. His snoot was sniffing furiously along the carpet. Her bookshelf resembled the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but would you look at that?! HOGWARTS: A HISTORY!

 _SHE'S A WITCH! A WITCH!_

Padfoot wasn't sure exactly what this meant for him, but he couldn't hold back the grin from his face. After over a decade of only being around Dementors, it was nice knowing that he now lived with a witch. He did not miss the Dementors. Every night since his escape, Padfoot was terrorized by them in his dreams. As the excitement of his discovery ebbed away, Padfoot made his way back onto Hermione's bed. He had a feeling that the freaky creatures would haunt him again tonight.

* * *

Harry had yet to write Hermione back. Despite Ron's continued attempts to make her play hangman with him (honestly, she already knew that the word was probably 'penis' simply because it was Ron and it was a five lettered word) she could tell that Ron was worried about Harry, too.

On top of that, her dog's behavior became puzzling seemingly overnight. Hermione did not know what had happened. He searched her room endlessly. Whenever she left the room, he would hurry after her and follow. Once he saw the inside of her closet, he took an immediate liking to her Hogwarts cloaks that were tucked in the back. Her dog finally seemed content when she wrapped him up in her cloak at night. Maybe Hogwarts scent comforted him as it did her?

The worst thing of all was that she still had yet to name him. Hermione had read so many books with so many characters in them, and yet she could not find a name that felt fitting. Her father referred to him as Black Jack, while her mother called him Cosmos. He seemed to like both of those names, but she couldn't bring herself to call him either of them. They felt close, but not quite right.

Hermione laid tucked under her covers when she felt Padfoot stand on the queen-sized bed on all fours. She peeled her eyes open to see the black mass with his tail stick straight, nose pointed to her door, and the fur along his neck and back raised. Curious and frightened by how alert her dog was, she reached under her bed for her baseball bat.

Joining softball in primary school had been a poor attempt at trying to make friends, but the bat in her hands definitely came in handy now. Maybe it was because it was 1AM or maybe it was because she was a reckless Gryffindor, but Hermione eased open her bedroom door. Her bare feet padded down the hallway as she followed her dog to the front of the house. Her goosebumps along her arms and legs were illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight through blinds.

Padfoot stopped before the front door, hackles raised, and let out a deep, guttural growl that she had never heard him make before. She peeked through the peephole in the door.

Through the fisheye view she saw none other than her best friend Harry Potter. He was wearing an oversized ratty hoodie and grass-stained torn jeans. His eyes were bloodshot and his lip quivering, but under it all was Harry Potter.

"Love, it's okay. I know who it is," she whispered to her dog who immediately sobered up and calmly moved aside.

"Be a good boy and go back to my room? I'll be there in a bit," Hermione watched as Padfoot eyed her before heading back into the shadows towards her room.

The unlocking of the door was loud in the quiet of the night. Harry raised his head in surprise. Hermione stood in the doorway with her mouth open yet no words coming out. She knew that Ron was his best mate. Why didn't Harry go to Ron's? Hermione also knew that Harry wasn't going to be the one to initiate the hug, but Hermione knew that he needed it. She gently wrapped her arms around him and felt him stiffen before he embraced her back. Though they were the same height, Hermione felt his head tuck into the crook of her neck. Her neck felt suspiciously wet, but she would never tell Harry that. The last thing he needed right now was to feel dumb for crying. This was why he came to me, she thought as she felt his emotions pouring off him and waves.

"I blew up Aunt Marge," he mumbled the confession into her shoulder. "She looked like a blimp," he admitted before pulling back and looking into Hermione's eyes.

She struggled to think of what Ron would do in this situation. All she wanted to do was berate Harry for being so irresponsible. Accidental magic at 13? On a Muggle? Really?

"Isn't that her normal state?" Hermione said.

Harry quirked a watery smile before entering her house. They chatted a bit as Hermione fixed the two of them cups of tea. She stirred in a bit of sugar before handing the mug to the distraught boy.

"I'm gonna have to go back to them," Harry said.

"Because of the blood wards?" She asked.

Harry nodded. They sipped their teas in silence. The clock ticked in the background and a lone cricket was heard.

"What are you thinking, Hermione?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't act like I don't know you. You're too quiet. You're thinking of something. What is it?"

She smiled at him, a little embarrassed by how predictable she was. "Magic is all about intent, yeah?"

Harry nodded.

"You were raised Muggle, too. Have you ever heard of becoming blood brothers?"

He nodded once more before furrowing his eyebrows.

"You want to be my brother?" He asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. Harry snorted, realizing his error.

"What exactly would becoming "blood brothers" do?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me. You know everything."

She laughed at him. "I don't know everything. I really don't know what it would do, but if we intend to become actual siblings through the "ritual", then who's to say that the blood wards wouldn't cover you when you're with me?"

Harry's mouth gaped open. He ran his hand through his untamable hair. "Geez, Hermione... I don't know. Blood magic can be pretty heavy. And isn't "blood thicker than water"? Wouldn't Aunt Petunia's bond trump yours and mine?"

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb," she corrected him.

Her words hung in the air. Harry folded his hands on the table. He really hated living with the Dursleys, so shouldn't the obvious answer be "yes"? Maybe he should think this through though...Hell, when had he ever thought things through? What did he have to lose?

"Isn't this kind of reckless?"

"Yes…"

"Okay. I'm game."

Hermione snorted and walked over to a drawer and pulled out a short knife. She turned on the gas stove and held the knife over the flame until the metal glowed. Hermione then held it under a steady cold stream of water under the sink faucet until the metal no longer hissed and released steam.

She sat back down across the table from Harry. He watched as she created a small scratch onto the palm of her hand. Harry held his hand palm up to her and tried to school his expression to conceal the slight pain. Once the blood began to bead from the scratch, he reached for her hand and the two of them intertwined fingers. Their blood mingled together. He thought of all of the times that Hermione had stayed by his side. He thought of how she always helped him; whether it be loaning him almost all of her quills throughout the school year or by spending hours in the library studying how to help him in his next moral dilemma. He had good friends. His heart clenched as he thought about how much he cared for them.

Hermione and Harry's hands emitted a soft gold glow before fading. They felt their energy deplete.

"C'mon. You can sleep in my bed tonight," she said, ready for some peace and quiet.

The second they entered her room, her dog attacked.

Padfoot threw himself at Harry. Harry fell to his knees and struggled to stand as a giant black ball of fur licked his face all over. The dog whined and barked at Harry.

"Down, boy. Down! Be nice. Oh my goodness, Harry. I'm so sorry. I've never seen him act like this!" Hermione said amidst her dog's bizarre noises and Harry's breathless laughter.

Harry wrapped his arms around the dog and felt the dog's squirming slow down.

"Hey there!" Harry said to the dog who barked in response. "What's his name?" Harry grinned up at Hermione.

"Not sure. My parents both have different names for him and I haven't decided what to call him yet."

Harry cupped the panting dog's face before petting his head. "I think his name is Bear."

"But he's a dog?" She retorted.

"He's a bear. Look at the size of him Hermione."

She shook her head at him and promptly grabbed an extra pillow and threw it onto her bed.

Harry struggled to shed his hoodie as the dog jumped onto him. Harry and Hermione both crawled into bed and allowed the exhaustion to take over them. The two of them locked hands sometime during the night. Probably around the same time Padfoot crawled halfway on top of Harry and stared at the sleeping teen's face until the wee hours of the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I take no credit for her work. Excerpts from her books are included periodically to keep this fanfic somewhat close to canon. I own nothing.

* * *

If Dr. Wilbur and Dr. Jean Granger were bothered at all by their new house guest, they gave no indication of it. In fact, the guest bedroom's closet was suddenly full of clothes approximately Harry's size. The clothes were a bit too large, but infinitely better than Dudley Dursley's hand-me-downs. As Hermione settled into her chair at breakfast, she also noticed that her parents had added a fourth chair to the table. Their usual light breakfast of egg whites and fruits was replaced by hearty omelets and sausage.

 _Subtle_ _,_ Hermione noted, eyeing the protein.

Hermione reached across the table and squeezed her father's hand. He glanced over the top of the newspaper he was reading and squeezed her hand in return. The sudden burst of warmth she felt in her heart for her parents was almost painful. Hermione knew that she was blessed to have such loving parents.

"Good morning, sunshine," he smiled. The two of them began filling their plate as Jean sang softly along to the television playing 70's music in between bites of her food.

Harry slowly shuffled to the doorway. His hair was disheveled, but since he was a Potter that was a given. His clothes were wrinkled from sleep and hung loosely on his body. His hand was petting the black dog who walked beside him every step of the way.

"Good morning, Harry!" Jean greeted, her pearly whites on full display. She gestured towards the chair between herself and Hermione and began pouring Harry a glass of milk.

Whole milk? Her mother was nearly as bad as Molly Weasley who shoved food down Harry's throat.

"Did you sleep well, love?" Jean asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. He ducked his head to hide the red staining his cheeks.

Jean casually slid a bottle of Teen Vitamins! between Hermione and Harry and stared intently at her daughter.

 _I've never taken these before?_ Hermione thought before her eyes widened. _Oh._ She unscrewed the cap and poured two into her palm, giving one to Harry.

"Harry, we are so glad you're here. The yard is an absolute disaster. Wilbur and I have no idea what we're doing, but Hermione told us that you're quite the gardener at your aunt and uncle's house," Jean said, passing Harry the plate of sausage.

Wilbur wasted no time continuing with his wife's rant, "The yard needs so much work and we know that Hermione can't do it by herself while Jean and I are at the practice. Do you think you would be able to stay here and help Hermione out? You would be doing us such a huge favor," he said, never looking away from his newspaper.

Harry looked from Hermione's soft smile to Jean's expectant eyes. "I'd love to help, sir."

"Excellent!" Jean grinned and returned to singing along to the music as she forked an omelet stuffed with vegetables onto Harry's plate.

The remainder of their breakfast passed by quietly. Padfoot found himself laying against Harry and Hermione's feet, accepting the sausage that the two slipped under the table. Dr. and Dr. Granger purposely ignored this, allowing the kids to exchange secret smiles throughout the meal.

After showering and preparing for the day, the two teens and their dog meandered to the backyard and listened to Hermione's parents' wild vision. Hermione had a feeling that her parents did not care about gardening whatsoever, but she was not about to tell Harry that. She had noticed the tension that visibly loosened from his shoulders when her parents asked him to stay with them.

While Hermione's parents were successful and stable adults, she knew that her mother had an unpleasant childhood. It was for that reason that Jean constantly asked Hermione about Harry's wellbeing. Hermione did not know what her mom's childhood entailed, but she had a feeling that it closely resembled Harry's…minus the whole "Chosen One" bit. Minor detail.

Armed with gloves and shovels, the pair waved goodbyes to Dr. and Dr. Granger and spent the morning pulling unruly weeds from flowerbeds. The sun beat down on the teens, causing sweat to gather at their brows. The longer the pair pulled weeds, the slower they became. Multiple times they stopped to massage their arms. Their breaths came out in puffs and their faces were stained red. Hermione eventually had to force herself to take a break much to her irritation.

Youngest Seeker of the Century: 1

Brightest Witch of Her Age: 0

But who was keeping score anyway? Once the weeds were eradicated, the digging began. Padfoot stopped sunbathing and decided to join along much to teens' amusement.

Around noon they all gathered indoors to tidy up and enjoy sandwiches and water. Padfoot had yet to transition to dog food and instead was given more chicken and vegetables that her dad had kept in the refrigerator for the dog. Sirius had never eaten vegetables in his youth but receiving vegetables as Padfoot made him feel quite pampered.

Before long the teens leashed Padfoot and made their way down the street, heading to Albert's Greenhouse half a mile away.

"You need to get Bear something more stylish," Harry said, referring to the dog and his red leash and collar.

"Such as?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow.

"I dunno. A spiked collar? A leather jacket?"

"I will not clothe my dog! That's ridiculous"

"It's stylish."

"Ridiculous," Hermione scoffed as they approached their destination.

The greenhouse was lush and carried an array of plants. Hermione only had a vague idea of what each plant was. Harry, however, either knew everything there was to know about a plant or absolutely nothing at all. Hermione allowed Harry to take control of the shopping, trusting that he knew which plants would work best for the season and climate. She noticed that he gravitated to all the lilies even though they were unlikely to flourish in the summer heat. Padfoot seemed to enjoy them, too, sniffing each lily he came across.

After purchasing the flowers with the money Hermione's parents left behind, they soon realized the flaw in their plan. The two teens precariously stacked as many flowers as they could in their arms. Hermione had never been more thankful that her dog was so well-behaved. He walked off leash the way home with them, wagging his tail as the pair bickered about the ungodly number of flowers they carried.

Planting the flowers proved to be the fun part of gardening. As the sun lowered in the sky, Harry and Hermione planted while chatting away about school. Before long, the last flower was placed in its bed and they stepped back from their work.

"This looks amazing, kiddos," Jean Granger exclaimed from behind the teens.

Hermione turned and smiled at her mother. Wilbur Granger exited the back porch of the house, shrugging off his work coat.

"Wow, Harry. You sure do have a gift," He said, admiring the garden.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, ducking his head.

"It looks like you both spent all day out here. It really paid off," Wilbur smiled.

"Let's all get inside. Your father is making dinner tonight," Jean smiled, ushering the kids and their dog indoors.

Inside Wilbur delegated the cooking, and Harry and Hermione found themselves cutting up vegetables and tossing salad. The pair took this as an opportunity to show off their chopping skills that they had acquired from two years of potions. Hermione would like it to be noted that her carrots were obviously finer sliced.

Youngest Seeker of the Century: 1

Brightest Witch of Her Age: 1

…but again, who was keeping score?

As they settled into their dinner, Hermione noticed how her mother piled fettucine alfredo onto Harry's plate. Jean and Wilbur recounted their day to Harry and Hermione. Harry had never given much thought into the life of a dentist, but their stories definitely changed the perspective he had on the career.

"-and then they sneezed in your father's face."

"Oh no!" Hermione threw her hands to her face as Harry choked back a laugh.

"I have never been more thankful for the masks we wear," Wilbur said as he gave a shudder.

"That's crazy," Harry said shaking his head with a grin.

Jean glanced over at her daughter, "Love, do you remember how we were supposed to go on our trip this summer, but we had to reschedule because of an emergency surgery?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well, your dad and I agree that now would be the best time to go on vacation, don't you think so?"

Hermione nodded again, her smile widening.

"After dinner do you think that you two will be able to pack your bags for tomorrow morning?"

Harry and Hermione nodded eagerly.

"Harry, you'll love France," Wilbur said.

* * *

Wilbur was right: Harry really loved France.

He loved the cottage that the Grangers rented for them to stay in. He loved the architecture and the people. He loved the mountains and ocean scenery. And by Godric did he love the food. The markets with fresh bread, meat, and cheese!

This was the first vacation that Harry had ever been on and it was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. His favorite part of the trip by far was lounging at the beach. Him, Padfoot, and Hermione found themselves spending entire mornings just lying on the shore in silence. They had no concept of time. There was no rush to be anywhere or to do anything. In the evenings they lazily strolled through the town exploring various shops. They were typical tourists and Harry could not have been happier by the entire normalcy of walking into crowds without anyone recognizing him and his lightning bolt scar.

All too soon the considerably darker complexioned teens found themselves in Diagon Alley, shopping for Harry's school supplies.

"I cannot believe that you waited until literally the very last minute to finish buying your books," Hermione said, licking her butterbeer ice cream from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

Harry struggled to contain all of his books within his satchel, burying The Monster Book of Monsters to the very bottom. "I was busy this summer," he shrugged sheepishly.

"We need to leave within the next hour if we want to make the train on time," Hermione said.

"You mean I can't arrive in Mr. Weasley's car again?" Harry laughed, dodging Hermione's hand that made to slap him upside the head.

"You're unbelievable," she said.

"No, I'm Harry Potter," he joked.

"And I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic."

Harry turned to look up at the man whose hand clamped down on his shoulder. Harry immediately recognized the man. He had seen Fudge once before, but as he had been wearing his father's Invisibility Cloak at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that.

Fudge sat down in the empty chair at their table, gesturing his hand to the waiter before requesting tea and crumpets. He nodded to both of the teens before turning to Harry.

"Well, Harry," said Fudge, pouring out tea, "you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think… but you're safe, and that's what matters."

Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry.

"You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."

Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favorite nephew. Harry, who couldn't believe his ears, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.

"Hang on," blurted Harry. "What about my punishment?"

Fudge blinked.

"Punishment?"

"I broke the law!" Harry said. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!"

"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!"

But this didn't tally at all with Harry's past dealings with the Ministry of Magic.

"Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!" he told Fudge, frowning. "The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!"

Unless Harry's eyes were deceiving him, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward.

"Circumstances change, Harry… We have to take into account… in the present climate… Surely you don't want to be expelled?"

"Of course I don't," said Harry.

"Then everything is settled," Fudge clapped his hands together and smiled down at the boy.

Hermione could feel Harry's anxiety radiating off him. "With all due respect Minister, we ought to be leaving soon to catch the train," Hermione said and rose from her chair. Harry followed suit.

"Ah, yes! Go enjoy your third year, children," Fudge said with a smile that did not meet his eyes.

Harry and Hermione scrambled away, not sure exactly what to say.

Harry interrupted the silence, "Before we leave I want to fetch Scabbers some medicine. Ron wrote that Fred and George slipped the poor bugger something in Egypt that made him sick."

The tension that lingered from their encounter with Fudge dissolved. Hermione rolled her eyes as they took a right and entered Magical Menagerie. The door chimed as the pair walked in. The musky aroma of animals swirled in the dry air and felt almost suffocating.

"I wish Bear could have joined us at Hogwarts," Hermione said, using the name Harry called her dog.

"I'm sure he'll do just fine with your parents," Harry reassured.

"I know…I just miss him already."

"I miss him, too."

Harry led the way down the aisles, making his way to the very back of the shop. Caged animals lined the shelves.

"I need an owl," Hermione said, thinking of the Eeylops Owl Emporium just two doors down.

"What do you need an owl for anyway? You can use Hedwig anytime. The Owlery is always open. What's the point?"

"The point is that I want an owl of my own."

Hermione came to a halt as something caught her eye, "Oh my god."

Harry turned around to see what she was looking at. "Oh my god," he agreed.

A lopsided cage coated in dust was shoved further back than the other cages on the shelf. Staring back at the teens were a set of piercing and calculating grey eyes set into the face of a very squashed face.

"Isn't he the most handsome cat that you've ever seen?" Hermione breathed.

Harry's neck snapped in her direction. It was the ugliest cat Harry had ever seen.

"He's…lovely, Hermione, but why don't we go look at the owls at the Emporium after I buy the rat tonic?" Harry sputtered, placing his hand under her elbow, trying to guide her to the rat section so they could quickly make their way to the next shop.

Hermione stood her ground, captivated by the cat. "Whatever for? I can use Hedwig anytime and the Owlery is always open."

Harry grimaced and ran his hand through his hair.

The cat slinked its way to the front of his cage, cocking his head. Hermione extended her hand forward, her fingertips barely in between the bars of his cage.

The shopkeeper hobbled down the aisle faster than one would expect of a woman her age, "Lass, you might want to remove your hand from there! That feline is a mean old bastard. He's been here for Godric knows how long and has scratched the living daylights out  
of anyone who so much as looks at him!"

With bated breath, Hermione watched as the fluffy, ginger cat nuzzled her fingers and purred. Hermione's grin stretched across her face.

Harry and the shopkeeper looked at the girl incredulously.

"How much for him?" Hermione asked, never taking her eyes off the cat.

"Uhm…Free. Nobody wants this kneazle," the shopkeeper said.

"Kneazle?" Harry inquired.

"They're magical felines. Highly intelligent and can smell a rat a mile away. They're like a living Sneakoscope. They're also known for being incredibly aggressive when they're full bred. The one your friend is petting is only half-kneazle," the shopkeeper said, cringing when she saw Hermione open the feline's cage and cradle him in her arms.

Harry gathered supplies for Hermione's new…thing… as she was too distracted cooing to it. The silent bond that formed between him and the shopkeeper lingered in the air as both were utterly puzzled by how Hermione was so enamored with the beast of a cat.

Harry promptly checked out with Scabbers' tonic and Hermione's cat supplies.

"Oh, Harry you didn't have to pay for me!"

"It's not a problem," he said. _Good god, that was an ugly cat_ , he thought. "What's your cat's name?"

"Crookshanks," she immediately replied.

"Hermione…that's awful. I cannot call him that. Give me something else."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him before returning her loving gaze back to the furball in her arms, "I suppose you can call him 'Leo'."

She laughed as she saw the cat's pupils dilate as he stared into her eyes. Slowly inching his way from her hold on him, he sniffed her hair…and then a little more…and then with more ferocity.

"I think he can smell Bear on you."

"You think so?"

"Probably. That big, black mutt always sleeps with his head on your pillow. You probably have his scent on you."

"You're right," Hermione said, smiling at her new beloved who seemed intent to do nothing but sniff her.

* * *

"What. In The. Bloody. Hell. Is. That.?" Ron said through a mouth of treacle tart.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Hermione, glowing.

Ron looked up behind Hermione's shoulder to where Harry stood. Harry nodded his head furiously.

"Uhh…" Ron said.

Crookshanks leaped from Hermione's arms and wandered around the train's compartment. Ron flinched away from the cat. Crookshanks, however, had other things on his mind and crept his bowlegs over to the sleeping man in the corner. Professor R. J. Lupin, according to the name tag on his suitcase. Probably the yearly defense teacher if Hermione had to guess.

Crookshanks took his time sniffing the professor's foot before his bushy tail shot straight into the air. Immediately the cat turned and bolted after Scabbers who was creeping towards the door. The cat gave chase to the rat and shrieks could be heard from other compartments. The Golden Trio ran after the animals, but by the time they reached the compartment door, the pets were out of sight.

"Hermione! Your beast is going to kill Scabbers!"

"He's not a beast!"

"Like hell he's not! Did you see that ugly mug? He looks like he belongs in the book Hagrid made us get for Care of Magical Creatures!"

"Take that back Ronald Billius Weasley!"

"Take your cat back to the cardboard box in a back alley you found him from!"

"Ronald!"

"Hermione!"

The lights went out.

"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly.

Hermione and Ron finally noticed that the train had stopped. Coldness unlike any that they had ever felt crept into their bones.

Harry clumsily gripped his friends' arms in the dark. The trio felt Professor R.J. Lupin try to move in front of them.

But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry's eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water…

But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

Lupin shoved his way through. One arm extended in front of the teens to guard them, while his wand arm cut through the air like a whip.

"Expecto Patronum!" His hoarse voice bellowed. A majestic, silver wolf lunged towards the looming dark figure and chased it away.

Harry's body had gone limp. Hermione and Ron desperately clutched the boy and held him up. Go, Mom, Hermione thought as she noticed just how much weight Harry had gained over the summer.

The lights returned to the train and the engine roared.

Professor Lupin turned to the trio before his eyes firmly landed on Harry. Ron and Hermione dragged Harry to a seat. Lupin went to the corner where he had been resting and retrieved a chocolate bar from his bag.

"Here, this will help him," He said and handed Ron a square of chocolate.

"…Sure it will…Thanks…" Ron said, eyeing the candy.

"Ron!" Hermione chastised and yanked the chocolate from his hand.

Harry's eyes slowly fluttered open. "What happened?" He croaked.

"Dementors," Lupin replied.

Harry raised his head to look at the professor. Hermione promptly shoved the piece of chocolate into Harry's mouth with enough ferocity that would have made Molly Weasley proud.

"Please excuse me," Lupin said, and made his way to the front of the train where the Head Girl and Head Boy compartment was.

"What are dementors?" Harry asked.

Ron looked at Harry incredulously. "You know about Azkaban, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"…Do you know anything about what has happened with Azkaban recently?" Ron asked both Harry and Hermione.

They both shook their head 'no.'

"It's everywhere! Where have you guys been the last week?"

"France," They replied.

"Oh, yeah. Damn," Ron scratched his head, "I mean, I don't know a lot about it. Just what I hear mum and dad talk about when they thought we weren't around… I don't think I should be the one telling you, Harry, but you're my best mate and I owe it toyou  
to tell you-"

"Ron, what is it?" Hermione interrupted.

Ron sighed. "A prisoner recently escaped."

"How does that affect me?" Harry asked.

Ron laughed without any trace of humor, "Mate, when does anything bad not affect you?" He asked before delving into the story of Prisoner ᚷᛉ-390: Sirius Black.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I take no credit for her work. Excerpts from her books are included periodically to keep this fanfic somewhat close to canon. I own nothing.

* * *

Regulus Arcturus Black slinked his way down the Hogwarts corridor. Honestly, how could he have lost Pettigrew? Regulus hadn't expected that the rat's fat little body could have moved with the speed that it had. He had lost Pettigrew on the train, only to find a trail of his scent at Hogwarts, and then lost it again. It was difficult for Regulus to comprehend all that had happened that day.

It began as it usual. He was hunched in his cage and his body ached. He was fed something that he assumed had once been fish. And then there was a shadow. Chocolate brown eyes stared at him. They were framed by thick, dark lashes and turned amber when the light hit them. They held a softness and warmth to them that nobody had looked at him with in years.

And then she extended her hand to him.

Call it kneazle intuition or maybe even his loneliness, but in that moment, he completely trusted her. He heard the girl's friend and the saleswoman attempt to dissuade her from buying him, and yet she unlocked his cage and held him in her arms as if he was an old friend. Regulus understood why they discouraged her from purchasing him. He was pretty ugly and had a record. He was one bite and scratch away from being thrown into the streets.

The girl was soft, warm, and smelled like home. Like coconuts, brown sugar, and…Sirius? _How in the hell?_

Regulus peaked through the girl's mass of mahogany curls that he was nuzzled in. Over her shoulder stood a teen boy barely concealing his disgust. He had seen that exact same expression on only one other face before: James Potter. Putting together the few puzzle pieces that Regulus was given, he was certain of three things: 1. This boy was Harry Potter. 2. Sirius was in contact with these two kids. 3. Regulus really wanted this girl to adopt him.

And she did.

Running into Lupin and Pettigrew definitely was not what he had on his agenda for the day, either. He couldn't believe that Pettigrew had spent the last decade in his Animagus form…Regulus had felt so clever living as a cat. He had fooled everyone and faked his own death. He was essentially a fly on the wall in the Wizarding World. Yet here was Peter fucking Pettigrew who apparently had the exact same survival plan as he did.

However, Pettigrew was now in dire need to find a new plan. Now that Regulus found him, what made him think that he was going to get away? Sirius was a lot of things, but he was never a traitor. Regulus never believed for one second that his brother would have betrayed the Potters. Pettigrew, though? Of course. Regulus never had definitive proof that Pettigrew was a Death Eater, but he did distinctly remember seeing a robed 5'6" Death Eater who tripped over the hem of his robes a lot. That was evidence enough that it had been Pettigrew.

While Regulus prided himself for being one of the more mentally sound Blacks, he felt crazed. Bloodthirsty, even. Pettigrew was going to be sent to Azkaban, but only after Regulus played with his food.

Pettigrew was going to suffer.

Regulus decided that the best way to potentially learn more about Sirius and Pettigrew would be by following his little human around. He followed her everywhere. It was purely for investigative reasons, not because she was incredibly kind to him and smelled at  
all.

He lounged on her lap during breakfast, accepting the pieces of meat that she fed him. It was wonderful.

Hermione examined her new schedule. "Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today," she said happily.

"Hermione," said the ginger boy with big ears who Regulus assumed was Weasley #2,000. There were so many Weasleys.

"They've messed up your schedule. Look—they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time," The boy continued.

"I'll manage, Ron. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

"But look," said Ron, laughing, "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And"—Ron leaned closer to the schedule, disbelieving—"look—underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Don't be silly," said Hermione shortly. "Of course, I won't be in three classes at once."

"Well, then—"

"Pass the marmalade," said Hermione.

"But—"

"Oh, Ron, what's it to you if my schedule's a bit full?" Hermione snapped. "I told you, I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

She leaned over the table grab the marmalade. Regulus caught the glint of metal around her neck and followed it to the strange shape protruding under her sweater.

 _No fucking way_. McGonagall gave one of her students a Time-Turner? This was a whole new level of Gryffindor recklessness.

Hermione hurried her way through breakfast before slinging her satchel over her shoulder. Regulus followed her to the North Tower for Divination. Last time Regulus remembered, the class was an absolute joke.

"Well hello there, Reggie," a soft voice said.

A pale girl with even lighter hair knelt before him.

"If Loony likes the cat then you know he's weird," Regulus heard Ron whisper to Harry. Harry responded with a quick kidney jab to silence his friend.

"I personally think that he's more of a 'Leo'," Harry smiled at the strange girl.

"Yes, he's also a Leo," Luna nodded. She shifted to sit cross-legged in the middle of the corridor and held her hand out to the cat. Regulus nuzzled her hand with his head.

Regulus recalled a peculiar girl, Pandora, a few years above him in Hogwarts who was very similar to the one before him.

"I'm sorry, but we have to get to class now," Hermione said before bidding farewell. She scooped up her cat in her arms and soon forgot the exchange.

The following weeks were relatively calm for Regulus, but there was an underlying current of anxiety that had begun to build. He spent the majority of his time stalking Pettigrew and terrifying the rat any chance he got. But he couldn't help but worry about Hermione.

He learned that the girl was absolutely brilliant. She was obviously book smart, but Regulus could see that she was so much more than that. That was why he was completely baffled by just how stupid she was when it came to taking care of herself.

She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes and seemed constantly close to tears. Regulus knew her schedule by heart. He walked with her to all of her and knew that after Divination she went to an empty classroom three doors down to go back in time in order to make it to Muggle Studies. Her schedule was rigorous.

It wasn't until three weeks in that she finally broke. Curfew was approaching, and Hermione had yet to return to her dormitory. Regulus made his way down to the library. The curly headed brunette was slumped over a dusty textbook. Her sweater was wrinkled, and her hair frizzed around her. He padded his way over to her and jumped on top of the table and nuzzled her hair. She blinked away the sleep and moved forward to pet him. It was at that moment that they both realized that something was amiss.

"Oh my god," Hermione said, her face scrunching up as tears began to pool down her face. "I completely forgot that the Time-Turner would change when it happened." Her face was blotchy, and Regulus was not quite sure what to do. Sure, Regulus knew that half of the population bled monthly, but he had never actually witnessed the panic that came with it.

Regulus fled the library and ran to the Infirmary. It took a good five minutes to locate a feminine hygiene product. Why were there so many different kinds? When he returned to the library, Hermione was sniffling and packing her worn satchel.

She saw the wrapped pad that he carried with his teeth and her eyes began watering again.

"You're the best, Crookshanks," She wailed and picked him up to hold to her chest.

Regulus was really worried about his little witch. The more that Regulus thought about it, the more he realized that he hadn't seen her eat a full meal or sleep for eight hours since she came to Hogwarts. Maybe he should cut back on hunting Pettigrew and make sure that Hermione was taking care of herself? She was his only friend and a good one at that. He needed to look after his best friend.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I take no credit for her work. Excerpts from her books are included periodically to keep this fanfic somewhat close to canon. I own nothing.

* * *

Sirius absolutely loved the Grangers.

Every morning the couple woke up before the sun rose and went on a light jog around the block, taking Sirius along with them. When they returned home, Wilbur Granger would shower while Jean Granger would lay out their clothing for the day. While Jean showered, Wilbur made breakfast and packed their lunches. Jean would feed Sirius and then join Wilbur for breakfast. They would talk about Hermione and Harry, the news, Hermione and Harry, their agenda for the day, Hermione and Harry, politics, and maybe some more about Hermione and Harry.

The Grangers treated each other with equality and respect, something that Sirius had only seen with James and Lily and James' parents. The only thing that the Granger's loved more than one another was Hermione, and possibly Harry. In the short few months that Harry had moved in with the Grangers over the summer, it seemed that the family had fully accepted the boy. _I love the Grangers._

"Hermione wrote us the other day," Wilbur said as he ate his toast.

"Is that so?"

Wilbur nodded and absentmindedly handed his wife a heavy package. "She's more overwhelmed with school this year than usual, she loves her cat, and she and Ron are currently fighting over said cat. Harry says "hello" and asked about the garden. I think there's some knickknack in there from the Weasley's, too. Arthur wants to know why the snow globe is a snow globe and not a sand globe."

Jean pulled out the multiple letters inside the envelope covered with her daughter's cursive. A small note from Harry, a magnetic sphynx, and a dessert snow globe with "Egypt" on it tumbled out.

"Interesting," Jean smiled and seat the package aside. She grabbed the sphynx and the magical newspaper clipping that had sat around on their kitchen counter and used the magnet to attach the lower half of the refrigerator.

Sirius padded over to the refrigerator and glanced up. There was barely an inch of the refrigerator not covered by one of Hermione's aced tests. In the sea of tests, a sphynx held up a newspaper clipping.

 **"Grand Prize Winner Visits Egypt: The Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw Winner – The Weasley Family!"**

 _Good for them_ , Sirius thought with a smile.

Nine redheads grinned at the camera. They practically radiated love and happiness. The twins were the first to catch Sirius's eye. Their eyes, even on print, twinkled with mischief. There was no denying that they were nephews of the late and undeniably great Fabian and Gideon Prewett (may the pranksters rest in peace).

Sirius looked for a kid who was closest to Harry and Hermione's age. This must be Ron, Sirius thought as he eyed the lanky boy with a babyface. However, it was the rat in the boy's hand that immediately caught Sirius's attention. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Nine toes.

 _Son of-_

* * *

"-a bitch!" Ron exclaimed.

Sirius Black had recently been sighted by a Muggle. Harry paled at the news. Hermione reassuringly put her hand on his shoulder as the trio walked down the corridor.

Ron looked over his shoulder and saw Malfoy and his crew of Slytherins watching closely. "What, Malfoy? Need something?"

Malfoy's eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed on Harry.

"Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?"

"Yeah, that's right," said Harry offhandedly, unconsciously puffing out his chest.

Malfoy's thin mouth was curving in a mean smile.

"Of course, if it was me," he said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" said Ron roughly.

"Don't you know, Potter?" breathed Malfoy, his pale eyes narrowed and focused.

"Know what?"

Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh.

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he said. "Want to leave it to the dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry angrily.

"What am I talking about, Potter?"

"Malfoy, why don't you and your gang of mouth breathing, inbred, and uglier-than-Filch's-arse gang somewhere else? My eyes hurt just looking at you," Ron said.

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort when Professor McGonagall walked past and told them to hurry along.

Once they within the confines of the Common room, Harry threw himself into a chair beside Ron while Hermione settled onto the plush loveseat. Crookshanks lept lightly onto her lap. A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.

"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" said Ron, scowling.

"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" said Hermione.

Crookshanks slowly chewed up the spider, his grey eyes fixed insolently on Ron.

"Just keep him over there, that's all," said Ron irritably, turning back to his star chart. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."

"I can't believe you actually dropped Divination," Ron said, changing the subject.

"She was predicting Harry's death! Load of rubbish. I refuse to waste my time in that class," Hermione nuzzled her hand comfortingly.

Harry yawned, "I'm not too worried. All I saw was Bear."

"Bear?" Ron asked.

"My- well, Hermione's dog."

"Honestly, the dog is more attached to you than he is me. I love him, but it's obvious that he's yours, Harry," Hermione smiled.

Crookshanks was still staring unblinkingly at Ron, flicking the end of his bushy tail. Then, without warning, he pounced.

"OY!" Ron roared, seizing his bag as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deep inside it and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"

Ron tried to pull the bag away from Crookshanks, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.

"Ron, don't hurt him!" squealed Hermione; the whole common room was watching; Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top—

"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yelled as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table, and chased after the terrified Scabbers.

George made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs, and started making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.

Ron and Hermione hurried over; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.

"Look at him!" he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. "He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"

"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" said Hermione, her voice shaking. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"

"There's something funny about that animal!" said Ron, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. "It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"

"Oh, what rubbish," said Hermione impatiently. "Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d'you think—"

"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" said Ron, ignoring the people around him, who were starting to giggle. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"

Ron marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

* * *

The next morning was awful for Hermione. Ron refused to talk to her during breakfast, causing Harry to panic because he didn't know which friend to pay attention to without seeming like he "chose a side".

Her parents wrote to her that her dog had run away two days ago. Harry frowned when he heard the news, but reassured her that Bear would find his way home.

Crookshanks was nowhere to be seen which caused her heart to sink further. She sincerely hoped that the cat was lounging somewhere rather than harassing Scabbers.

She had been so excited for her first Hogsmeade outing, but she could barely muster any enthusiasm to spend the entire day with Ron. It was so unfortunate that Harry couldn't come with. God, why didn't she have more friends?

"Let's go, Mione," Ron grunted, wiping crumbs from his mouth. He stood and made his way to the Great Hall entrance.

Harry gave a strained smile and put his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Try to have fun. I'll see you at the feast tonight?"

She nodded and hurried after Ron.

It didn't take long for the two of them to forget that they had been upset with one another. Hogsmeade was, well…magical. Ron was raised in the Wizarding world and even he was in awe of the village.

Honeydukes, Dervish & Banges, Zonko's, and oh my goodness The Three Broomsticks!

"I don't know how I have gone through life without ever having this amazing beverage known as Butterbeer," Ron said, emptying his third mug.

"This is nectar of the gods," Hermione agreed, rubbing her belly.

Ron placed a couple coins on the tabletop for Madam Rosmerta's tip. "How much money do you have left?"

Hermione shuffled through her shopping bags for her coin pouch, "Uhm…enough to pick up some more treats for Harry."

"Poor bloke. He would've loved this," Ron said as he held the door open for Hermione as they made their last stop before trekking back to the castle.

* * *

"There you go," said Ron. "We got as much as we could carry."

A shower of brilliantly colored sweets fell into Harry's lap. It was dusk, and Ron and Hermione had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind and looking as though they'd had the time of their lives.

"You guys are the best," said Harry, putting the candy into his schoolbag and joining his friends.

They reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

The food was delicious; even Hermione and Ron, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything.

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

It had been such a pleasant evening that Harry's good mood couldn't even be spoiled by Malfoy, who shouted through the crowd as they all left the hall, "The dementors send their love, Potter!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.

Harry peered over the heads in front of him. The portrait seemed to be closed.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password—excuse me, I'm Head Boy—"

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.

"What's going on?" said Ginny, who had just arrived.

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer to see what the trouble was.

"Oh, my—" Hermione grabbed Harry's arm.

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.

Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing," he added unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

* * *

And that was how Hermione found herself laying amongst hundreds of other students in the Great Hall. Sirius Black had somehow managed to break into one of the safest places in the world. She tuned out the buzz of speculations around her. Honestly, had anyone else even bothered to read "Hogwarts: A History?" There was no way Black apparated onto the property.

The faculty searched the grounds while the Head Girl, Head Boy, and prefects all stood watch over the student body. Normally Hermione would have imagined herself in place of the Head Girl. It was her dream…well, one of many.

However, aside from her (constant) crippling fear for Harry's safety, all Hermione could really think about was where her cat was. Was it too much to ask for a normal school year?


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I take no credit for her work. Excerpts from her books are included periodically to keep this fanfic somewhat close to canon. I own nothing.

* * *

Grey eyes glowed in the night as they watched the weeping man in the forest. Regulus crept slowly in the night, inching his way further to his brother.

The moonlight shone through the treetops and illuminated down on the broken man. His body shook with tremors and his hunched back heaved up and down with every harsh breath.

Sirius had always been a proud man. A strong man. Yet here he was sitting on a log, tears streaking down his face with his head in his hands. It was a vulnerability that Regulus had never seen in his brother, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

"The rat. The boy has the rat. Got to get the rat."

 _Me too, brother,_ Regulus thought.

Unfortunately, catching Pettigrew had proved to be incredibly difficult. Regulus had not factored in that a rat would have literally hundreds of places to hide in a giant castle. It felt as though Regulus was always one step behind. Perhaps if he had the ability to search all day and night he would have made more progress by now but taking care of his little human was becoming a part-time job. It certainly would help to have a second pair of eyes join his search party.

Sirius jumped as something brushed his leg, "OI!"

"Meow," responded one of the ugliest cats he had ever seen.

In the middle of the Forbidden Forest was a giant housecat.

"What are you doing out here?" Sirius asked, eyebrows furrowed as a cat actually nuzzled against him. He slowly extended this hand to the cat's hideous face.

The cat bumped his head under Sirius' palm, encouraging the hand to go down its back. The fur was soft under his hand.

"Meow!" The cat said as he defied gravity and threw his fat little body onto Sirius' lap. There he kneaded Sirius' thighs before laying down.

Sirius' body stopped trembling. In fact, he didn't move a centimeter.

"Cats don't usually befriend me," he said. He scooted off the log and onto the forest floor, leaning against the log. The cat rose in his lap, arched his back high, and used his front legs to crawl up to Sirius' shoulder. The cat nuzzled his face into the crook of Sirius' neck.

Sirius used one hand to support the cat's body and brought the other hand up to the cat's head and slowly pet down the length of its body. In the chill of the October night, the cat's warmth was welcome. The steady vibrations of its' purr not only regulated Sirius' racing heart but also lulled him to sleep.

In the morning Sirius woke to the trickle of raindrops falling through the trees' green canopy. He found himself laying on top of the autumn leaves without the mysterious cat in sight.

* * *

Hermione rubbed the kink in her neck with a grimace on her face. She looked forward to Professor Lupin's classes almost as much as she looked forward to sleeping in on Sunday mornings.

Professor Lupin had a perfect ratio of practical hands-on lessons and lectures. Today was supposed to be hands-on. They were supposed to be up out of their seats and moving. But seeing as Professor Snape was standing in, Hermione doubted that the class would get on their feet anytime soon.

As was the case with nearly every student in the class, Hermione dreaded spending a lesson with Professor Snape. Neville was her partner in Potions and yes, he was horrible at it. However, Neville was also her partner in Defense Against the Dark Arts and he truly was showing growth in every class.

Hermione was not sure whether it was nature vs nurture where perhaps he was simply naturally skilled in Defense, or perhaps Professor Lupin's teaching method was easier for him to learn. Either way, Hermione sincerely hoped that Professor Snape wouldn't undo what Professor Lupin had done because Defense Neville was a better partner than Potions Neville.

Normally the combination of Professor Snape's voice and the steady hum of rain outside would have set a lull over the class. However, as the time passed, the energy only grew. There was a Quidditch game after the lesson and Professor Snape was out of his mind if he thought that they were actually going to pay attention to what he had to say on a chapter than was ahead of Professor Lupin's study plan.

While it was no surprise to anyone, it appeared that Hermione Granger was the only one taking notes; rubbing her neck with a scowl as she listed the characteristics of a werewolf. She looked as though she had just solved a complicated problem and was unhappy with what she uncovered.

By the end of the class everyone, apart from Hermione, was buzzing to run to their quarters and then straight to the Quidditch Pitch. Harry tugged on Hermione's hand, jarring her out of her concentrated stare at her notes.

"C'mon. Class has been dismissed and you're going to want to hustle if you want good seats," he said. Hermione saw that Harry had already begun packing her belongings in her satchel. Classmates walked passed them, clapping Harry on the back and wishing him good luck.

She nodded and absentmindedly reached for Harry's glasses before casting an Impervius spell. "Water repellent" was all she said before following Ron and Neville to Gryffindor Tower. It wasn't until she reached the Common Room that she realized that Harry had asked Ron to carry her satchel.

In her dormitory she weaved through her roommates chattering with one another about the upcoming game, dodging elbows as the girls tried on different warm weather outfits.

She set her satchel on her bed and quickly changed into jeans and her honorary Weasley Christmas sweater. She pulled her raincoat, red and gold knitted hat, and rainboots from her trunk before heading down to meet the boys.

Spending her afternoon watching Quidditch in the Scottish downpour amongst hundreds of people wasn't exactly Hermione's idea of a good time. The wind was biting, she felt crowded, and she was on edge because any of the players could become injured at any second.

Despite this, it was hard for her not to get wrapped up in the excitement of it all. She was sitting with Luna, Ginny, Ron, and Neville.

Luna was cheering any time either team made a point.

Ginny and Ron were analyzing every aspect of the game: what shoes Cedric Diggory was wearing, how the direction of the rain was affecting flight patterns, and how Harry's grip helped him be aerodynamic.

Hermione and Neville simply sat in relative silence, though they whooped and hollered for Gryffindor along with their other Housemates whenever their house scored. For the most part, though, the two friends enjoyed the caramel corn and roasted pumpkin seeds that Neville's gran had sent.

At one point there were whisperings amongst the crowd that Fred and George were selling smuggled butterbeers under the bleachers. Ron went and investigated this, managing to smuggle three bottles from his brothers. The twins had insisted that Ron pay two galleons, but Ron promised to clean the twins' room every other week during the summer.

Harry and Cedric had been vigilantly circling the perimeter of the pitch for the majority of the game in their search for the snitch. That was why everyone noticed when Harry's broom suddenly nosedived.

He held his thin body flush against his beloved Nimbus 2000 and pursued after what the crowd assumed to be the snitch, Diggory hot on his tails. The crowd roared and rose to their feet.

"GO, POTTER! GO!" Lee Jordan's voice boomed.

Harry came to a halt.

"Something's wrong," Hermione said. Fred and George raced on their brooms towards Harry.

Hermione reached for the binoculars in Ron's hand and frantically hit him on the arm with her hand. "Ronald, something is wrong!"

That was when they saw it.

Dementors rose from the ground like fog.

Lee Jordan stopped commentating. The crowd stopped cheering. Hermione stopped breathing.

Harry's body fell from the sky.

* * *

One would think that Harry would have been more excited to be alive when he woke up in the hospital wing. Thankfully he didn't experience any head trauma, though he did say that he had thought that he saw Bear standing on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest during the match.

However, of course, Harry ignored his survival and overall well-being. Instead, he focused on the loss of the Quidditch game and the destruction of his broom.

Nothing Hermione or Ron could say or do would lift his spirits, so thus Harry brooded as he normally did. Hermione supposed that she would allow it, though, seeing as this school year he once again had someone plotting to kill him.

Curiously, news on Sirius Black and his whereabouts were fairly quiet. Nothing had happened yet which should have eased the trio's nerves, but if anything it made them even more on edge.

As the next Hogsmeade weekend came around, Harry only became grumpier by his inability to go.

"Say, Potter, you're looking a bit blue," Fred said, throwing his arm around Harry's shoulder.

"Handsome, but still blue," George said, throwing his arm around Harry's other shoulder.

Harry tried to shrug them off.

"Wow. I heard that celebrities were divas"

"but I never expected them to be this feisty"

"I wonder how we can cheer Ickle Harrikins up, Feorge."

"I know how I like people to cheer me up, Gred."

"Easy, brother o' mine! Little ears are present!" Fred said, cupping his hands over Harry's ears.

"Too true. My bad."

"What about something more kid friendly?"

"Like getting up to no good?"

"Precisely!"

A large brown parchment was thrown into Harry's hand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!" George tapped the parchment with his wand. Words and illustrations appeared on the paper.

 **'Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs**

 **Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers**

 **are proud to present**

 **THE MARAUDER'S MAP'**

"Mischief managed!" Fred said, tapping the parchment. The words faded from sight.

"See you around, Parry Hotter!" The twins yelled, leaving Harry alone with Crookshanks in the Common Room as they headed for Hogsmeade.

The gears slowly shifted in Harry's head. Invisibility cloak + mysterious map that outlines where everything and everyone is = …

* * *

Hermione was more than ready for Christmas when it rolled around. Her heart warmed at the idea of opening her presents with her friends, heading down to the Grand Hall in her new Christmas sweater to fill up on cinnamon rolls, and then run around the grounds having snowball fights. This all came to a jarring halt at Harry's Christmas present.

"What do you think it is?" Ron asked, staring at the package.

"What do I think the broom-shaped package is?" Hermione asked rolling her eyes.

"It hasn't got a tag saying who it's from," Ron said.

"Harry, you probably shouldn't open that!" Hermione said.

Harry opened it. The broom-shaped package was indeed a broom, a Firebolt to be precise.

"Holy shite, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, crowding around Harry.

The grin across Harry's face stretched from ear to ear. He pumped his fist in the air, grabbed the broom, and bolted out of the Common Room. Hermione and Ron chased after him.

"Harry, that's not safe!"

"Harry, can I have a ride?"

"Harry, we need to tell someone that you have a potentially dangerous broom!"

"Harry, we need to tell everyone that you got a Firebolt!"

"You don't know who sent it!"

"You need to find out who sent it so you can thank them!"

"This isn't okay!"

"This is awesome!"

The trio ran through the corridors in their pajamas and slippers, their robes billowing behind them. As Harry and Ron booked it to the entrance of the castle. Hermione ran to the person who knew everything, Professor McGonagall.

Her hand knocked five times onto her favorite professor's office door. "MerryChristmasProfessorMcGonagallIt'sHermioneandIneedhelpbecauseHarryisdoingsomethingstupid!"

The door opened to the tall Scottish woman who had yet to have her coffee that morning, "Merry Christmas, Miss Granger. Where is he?"

* * *

No one would talk to Hermione. They sat beside her at meals but didn't say a word. The only one who spoke to her was Neville and he thanked her for the Christmas gift she gave him and hoped that she liked the roasted pumpkin seeds he gave her.

She spent the rest of her holiday in the library. The library usually warmed her heart, but this time she felt lonelier than ever in there by herself. Even Madam Prince had people to enjoy the holiday with and wasn't hiding away in the library.

Hermione sat in a reading nook by herself, munching on a cinnamon roll she smuggled in. She rested her head against the frosty window and gazed out as the sunset reflected on the white snow.

That was where Regulus finally found his little human.

"Hi, buddy," She gave a watery smile.

He jumped onto the bench and walked up to her lap. His big grey eyes stared up at her.

"I missed you today," she said. She bunched the sleeve of her sweater over her hand and wiped at her eyes.

Crookshanks nuzzled his head against her cheek before curling up in her lap. She stroked his fur until the sun set, then carried him back up to her dormitory where she held onto him through the winter night.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I take no credit for her work. Excerpts from her books are included periodically to keep this fanfic somewhat close to cannon. I own nothing.

* * *

"Crookshanks!" Hermione growled, desperately trying and failing to remove her cat off her sleep shirt. Her wand's alarm had buzzed to wake her for nearly 10 minutes now.

"C'mon! I don't want to be late for breakfast!"

 _Breakfast? You don't even eat!_ Regulus thought, his large stormy eyes narrowing at the girl.

"Don't give me that look! I need to get up!"

 _You only slept for three hours!_

She yanked at him, only for his claws to dig further into her shirt.

"Stop it! What do you want?" She threw her hands down to her sides in a huff of anger.

She felt two paws cover her eyes. "I don't have time to sleep in!"

Her cat actually _growled_ at her and batted the TImeTurner around her neck.

"I can't use that, Crooks!" She said.

Her cat ignored her and laid back down on her chest. She tried in vain to remove him again before relenting. The cat was annoying…but maybe he was also right. Maybe. Surprisingly, sleep found her quicker than she thought It would. In fact, she didn't wake up until 13 hours later to find her cat looking at her almost smugly.

"You were right, I was wrong." She grumbled, peaking to see if any of her dormmates were present. Seeing no one, she rose from her bed and stepped outside of the canopy. She reached under her shirt for her necklace before turning back to the morning. This was the first time in ages that she slept for more than four hours. It was also the first time she allowed herself to relax in the shower and properly care for her chocolate curls.

If she hadn't slept so well, she might've felt guilty for using the TimeTurner for anything other than her coursework. However, the sleep had been so good that for the next couple of weeks when her cat refused to let her out of bed, she didn't find herself putting up much of a fight.

Who knew that sleeping at night made you less tired and overall less of a zombie?

* * *

"Excellent work, Harry! I truly believe that you'll get it next session!" Professor Lupin said, clapping his student on the back.

Regulus watched from the shadows of the Defense Against the Dark Arts room as Harry used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow.

His chest heaved. "I'm still not sure why I haven't made much progress."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Harry. It's an advanced spell. You're doing just fine!"

Harry's dark brow furrowed, "But my progress has plateaued."

Professor Lupin perched himself atop his desk and clasped his hands together. His eyes focused on the ground.

"Say, Harry. Have you used the same memory every time you cast the Patronus charm?"

Harry nodded.

"Humor me and try a different memory, and then we can be done for the day."

The messy haired bit his lip. He stood stony faced for what felt like ages before his eyes widened. He then squared his shoulders and firmly placed his feet shoulder width apart. Regulus heard the soft sigh Harry released before the boy whipped his wand.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silver mass, brighter and more defined than the previous ones, shone from the end of the wand.

The young wizard staggered backward, and the form disappeared. Professor Lupin grabbed the boy with both hands and guided him to the nearest seat. Harry slumped into the chair and devoured the piece of chocolate his professor offered him.

Professor Lupin resumed his spot on his desk, ensuring that he gave the boy space.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant." His smile stretched across his scarred face as he looked at his student. "May I ask what memory you used?"

Harry chuckled lightly. "Last summer I went to Ron's house. The older Weasley brothers magicked a pool in the backyard. We taught the Weasleys muggle pool games and swam until the sun went down."

"'We?'" Professor Lupin pressed.

"Hermione and I."

"Is Hermione often invited to these sorts of things?"

Harry scratched the back of his head. "Well, yeah. She's family."

Professor Lupin appeared to ponder his words before he spoke, "Do you and Ron often ignore people who you consider family for weeks on end?"

Harry's green eyes narrowed. "She got rid of my broom!"

"To keep you safe." Professor Lupin said, his voice considerably softer than Harry's.

"Harry…I say this with your best interest in mind…If she is truly family, it is best to forgive her. Take it from an old man; if I spent more time in my youth forgiving my mates than arguing with them, perhaps I would have hundreds of more Patronus-worthy memories. Perhaps if we had treated one another with more kindness, things could have turned out differently." Professor Lupin ran his hand through his greying hair. "You of all people know how dark the world is…don't contribute to that darkness with bitterness and resentment."

Harry stared down at the tabletop before him and nodded.

"About your Patronus, however... I'm proud of the progress you've made. Your father would be proud, too. He was quite talented in Transfiguration. In fact, his Patronus was a stag. King of the forest."

The gloomy expression left Harry's face and was replaced with a smile; however, the sadness never left his eyes as he listened to his professor talk about his father.

Regulus slinked out of the classroom, feeling uncomfortable with the intimacy of the topic.

He hoped that Lupin's words to Harry would finally allow his little human's life to go back to normal. He had successfully gotten her to sleep and eat more than she had the entire school year, but he wasn't able to fix her social life.

If he had it his way, he'd simply scratch their faces in their sleep or poop in their shoes…But that would only make things worse for her. It would especially ruin her relationship with Ron, who was convinced that Regulus was behind the disappearance and possible death of his rat.

Unfortunately, Operation-Kill-The-Rat was not as successful as Ron thought it to be. Regulus hadn't the slightest clue where Pettigrew had scampered off to and this was really testing Regulus' patience. Regulus was almost certain that he would have to recruit his brother. While Regulus was a good hunter, Sirius literally had the nose of a hound if Regulus' suspicions were correct that he was Harry's pet dog. Also, Sirius had always been eerily familiar with Hogwarts' layout.

Regulus found Hermione curled up on a couch in the Gryffindor Common Rooms, reading her Potions textbook. He sprang into her lap and was greeted with a soft smile. He kneaded the tops of her thighs before settling in. She held her textbook with one hand and used her other hand to slowly pet his fur. Her cat's eyes closed, and purrs emanated from his body.

Regulus preferred this Hermione over the one he knew a month ago. Since she started sleeping and eating more, she became more relaxed. She read for leisure now without any panic in her eyes. Time was no longer urgent for her. Regulus was certain that if he went up to her dorm right now that he would find the curtains to her bed charmed shut, hiding a second Hermione taking an evening cat nap.

Hermione read a full chapter of her textbook before someone stood in front of her, blocking her view of the fireplace. She tucked a feather between the pages she was reading and looked up at the figure.

"Hello, Harry."

Harry refused to meet her eyes. His hand massaged the back of his neck. "Hi, Hermione. May I sit with you?"

She nodded, watching his every move.

"How are you?" He asked.

"Good."

"Anything new with you?"

"No."

Harry sat beside her and scratched the back of his head. "I have something new that I would like to share with you."

"Oh?" She arched her eyebrow, "Is it that Professor McGonagall returned your broom last week?"

"Er…yeah, that happened, but that's not what I wanted to share," he glanced at his hands in his lap. "You see, Professor Lupin has been teaching me a new spell and I'm still struggling to get it…I figured you might be able to help me perfect it since you're so good at spells. It's rather advanced so I know you can do it." Harry said.

Regulus peaked an eye open and watched Hermione's features soften.

"I figured if anyone would want to learn a new spell, it would be you. And if anyone could perfect it, it would also be you."

Hermione nodded slowly, "Yeah, sure, of course. I'll help you."

Harry released a loud sigh and grinned. "That's awesome, Hermione. Thank you so much. I'll see you at dinner!" He said. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her gently before heading up to his dorm.

Harry did see Hermione at dinner that night, and for the rest of the following meals. Ron quickly joined Harry, as did the rest of the Gryffindors.

Harry was able to make progress on the Patronus Charm considerably faster thanks to Hermione's help. She had the right balance of encouraging and pushiness that only an older sister could have. It only took a week for Hermione's silver otter to flit around the empty classroom. Soon afterwards, Harry's stag Patronus burst into life.

It was an emotional experience for Harry to see the Patronus that Professor Lupin had told him was his father's. All Hermione could do was sit beside him on the cold stone floor as he cast his Patronus continuously until the growls of their stomachs forced them to head down to dinner.

* * *

It wasn't long before the Golden Trio found themselves back at their weekly visits with Hagrid. During their tiff, Hermione visited Hagrid by herself. Hagrid made sure to let her know just what he thought of Harry and Ron's treatment of her. According to Hagrid, he also made sure to let the boys know just what he thought, too.

So it didn't surprise anyone when Hagrid collected the three of them in his arms when he saw them together.

"I am so happy ter see the lot of you together again!"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron could only grunt in reply as their feet dangled off the ground. Rosy cheeked, they smiled up at their favorite half-giant groundskeeper.

A chicken hobbled by, many of its feathers missing. "Oh, Hagrid, what's the matter with that chicken?" Hermione asked.

Hagrid gave a soft frown, "'M afraid he's just getting old and can't fight off this bout of sickness. Worried he won't last another month," Hagrid sighed, "C'mon inside, I'll fix you a spot of tea," Hagrid said, dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief.

The trio settled into the same seats they had chosen as theirs since their first year. Harry and Ron sat in their arm chairs beside one another, though sometimes Ron would make his way to the floor and recline with his back against the chair. Hermione was loyal to the rocking chair where she would curl up with a crocheted throw that smelled of must, firewood smoke, and lavender. There was something comforting about how no matter what was happening in their lives, Hagrid's hut remained a constant. It was like a sacred little nook in the magical world where time came to a halt and nothing could touch them.

Hagrid, ever the hostess with the mostess, handed the friends their cups of tea (also in the same mugs they had used since their first year) and gave them each their own plate of snacks.

Ron took a nibble of his biscuit, knowing that it was probably hard enough to break his teeth, but hoping that maybe one day he would be surprised. "This is inedible," he whispered to his two friends.

"What was that?" Hagrid asked as he tended to the fireplace.

Hermione elbowed Ron who choked on the biscuit, "He said, "It's incredible!""

Harry snickered.

"Yeah! Why didn't Hermione get one?" Ron asked through chews, eyeing Hermione's bowl of handpicked berries.

"She told me a couple weeks ago that she's on a diet," Hagrid said, settling into his oversized armchair, smiling at the students.

"Maybe Hermione's onto something," Ron said, watching Hermione happily pop berries into her mouth. She handed Crookshanks a berry, who laid at her feet and stared Ron in the eyes as he ate it.

Biscuits and berries forgotten, the trio told Hagrid about each of their classes throughout the week. Hagrid laughed along with kids and offered his advice when he felt necessary. It was nice to have an adult who was always on their side, affirming them in their actions and encouraging them.

"That's wonderful, Ron. 'M glad that yer doing better in school this year!" Hagrid clapped the blushing ginger on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Hagrid. How are you?" Ron asked, not making eye contact with anyone.

The smile left Hagrid's face, "I didn't want ta ruin the visit…but they've decided to ex-ex-execute Buckbeak…They've decided on three weeks from today…" Hagrid buried his head in his hands.

Hermione stood and wrapped her arms around the sobbing giant. "Oh, Hagrid," she said.

"He didn't mean ta hurt the Malfoy boy!"

"We know, Hagrid. Buckbeak didn't mean to."

"We'll figure out how to save him. Don't worry," Harry said.

Hagrid smiled and gave a shrug, seemingly not believing the boy's words but appreciating them nonetheless. "Thanks, Harry," He glanced out the window at the sunset, "I think it's time the lot of you head back ta the castle,' he said.

The trio said their goodbyes to the sniffling man and made their way to the Grand Hall. Hermione took one last look at the ailing chicken in Hagrid's yard, before scooping up her cat and hurrying along.


	8. Chapter 8

"UGH!" Hermione yelled, throwing her head down into the open book. Her mass of curls shielded her from the candlelight. Rolls and rolls of parchment littered the desks around her. Initially, there had been defined piles of Plan A and Plan B for Buckbeak's legal defense. However, that had been four pumpkin juices and three candles ago. Now everything was a bit jumbled, including her thoughts.

The entire case felt unjust. Hogwarts was a wizarding school where life-threatening injuries were considered the "norm". Students had even _died_ on campus! Malfoy hadn't died, though. Hagrid had explicitly warned the class of the dangers of hippogriffs at the beginning of the lesson. Malfoy knew the potential consequences of his actions and still deliberately insulted Buckbeak. The only reason the trial was even occurring was that of The Malfoy's dirty money and power.

Which was why Plan A existed. The trio had collected piles of legal, magical creature, and hippogriff related books. Astonishingly, Ron was incredibly passionate about the appeal. Harry nor Hermione had ever seen their friend read so many books with such vigor.

Hermione felt a rustled at her pant leg. "Bukawk!" Plan B clucked at her.

While Plan A was entirely logical, Plan B was a bit of a stretch…because no matter how much they researched, Malfoy money typically won.

Thus, Plan B was born. Hermione wasn't even sure if she could achieve it, but she at the very least had to try.

Hermione had started off with a barn mouse, which she had transfigured into a chicken. That feat alone had taken two days. Though now that she could do it, it was becoming much easier to produce. However, the real challenge was proving to be turning the mouse-chicken into a mouse-chicken-hippogriff. There were so many details to consider.

"I don't know if I can do this," Hermione mumbled, reaching to pet her cat laying on the table.

If she could do achieve it, she could transfigure Hagrid's dying chicken into Buckbeak. She could then replace the fake hippogriff for the real hippogriff so that Buckbeak wouldn't die, but the chicken wouldn't continue to suffer from illness.

…but what would she then do with Buckbeak? How does one hide a giant, aggressive magical creature?

Hermione groaned and pulled at her hair. She looked down at the three-foot miniature hippogriff who clucked around the empty classroom. If one were looking at the animal from a distance, it truly did look like a small hippogriff. However, like a Monet, the closer one got, the weirder things became. Its feathers did not have the magical gleam of that of a hippogriff, the talons were a bit too gold, and the beak too dull. Hermione doubted that the executioner would be a Magizoologist who would distinguish these flaws, but Merlin for Hagrid's sake she could not take any risks.

She returned the barn mouse back to its original state and packed her belongings into her satchel. She slung the bag over her shoulder before dragging her feet to the corridor. Hermione went to the adjacent empty classroom that she had also unofficially claimed and unlocked the door. There she grasped her necklace and turned back five hours.

Swaying on her feet, she held her arms out to steady herself. She took a couple calming breaths before exiting the classroom. Crookshanks sat in the hallway and greeted her with a soft "meow."

"Hello again," She said smiled and ran a hand down his back. He seemed to adapt well to her time-traveling endeavors. Randomly during their time together her cat would abruptly get up and leave, though she suspected that he was visiting her older self. Hermione noted that no matter what, Crookshanks made sure to accompany her whenever she finally went to eat.

The two made their way down the flights of stairs to the Great Hall for the day's final meal. She found herself walking behind a group of young Hufflepuffs before finding her way to Harry and Ron.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said, scooping roasted potatoes onto his plate and then onto an empty plate that she assumed to be hers.

"Hello, boys," Hermione said. She slid onto the bench and moved her satchel by her feet. She reached for the steamed broccoli and added a spoonful to hers and Harry's plates. Harry passed Hermione a piece of chicken, while she handed him two slices of ham before the two dug into their meals.

Hermione placed a folded napkin on her lap and handed Crookshanks morsels of roasted meat. She sat in silence for a majority of the meal, lost in her thoughts. Every now and again she would nod at something one of the boys said. It wasn't until the end of the meal that she was directly addressed.

"Hermione," Ron said, finishing his potatoes, "what happened to the pimple on your nose from breakfast?"

Harry stared wide-eyed at Ron.

"Pardon?" Hermione said, her cheeks flushing.

"You had a pimple on your nose at breakfast and now its barely there. How did you do that?"

"Ron!" Harry whispered.

Hermione shrugged and collected her belongings, "Magic."

"What's the spell?" Ron called after the girl.

"Merlin, Ron!" Harry said, rising from his seat.

"What? I'd like to know!" Ron said, absentmindedly touching his face. "Oye! Where are you lot going?" Ron called, stuffing a roll in the pocket in his jumper before running after his friends.

"I seriously just want to know!" Ron said, stopping when he saw Hermione and Harry standing in the middle of the corridors. Once he caught up to the pair, he saw what had caused them to stop.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle stood in the shadows, leering at the Gryffindors.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic as Hagrid?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher and yet he can't even properly teach!"

Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first—SMACK!

A hush fell over the portraits watching.

She had punched Malfoy on his cheekbone with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted..

"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!" The skin on her knuckles had cracked under the force of her punch and drops of crimson trickled down her fingers.

Hermione lunged towards Malfoy again. Harry reached to hold the girl back but was stopped by Ron's hand on his shoulder.

Crabbe and Goyle had grabbed Malfoy just in time to avoid the second blow. Malfoy clutched at his face, his silver eyes never leaving Hermione's injured hand. His lackeys pulled him back, and the trio of Slytherins retreated.

Hermione's cheeks were scarlet tinted, her chest heaved, and her hair crackled with electricity.

"That's right, Malfoy! You better walk away!" Ron yelled. He cupped his hands around his mouth, "Better think twice next time or Hermione will kick your pale little arse!" He let out a whoop of glee.

Harry let out a laugh. "Do you often observe Malfoy's arse?"

The corners of Hermione's lips curled up. A giggle escaped her mouth. She brushed off the curls sticking to her forehead.

Ron's tall form threw his gangly arms over each of his friends' shoulders.

"Blimey, 'Mione. What a right hook. You're an absolute legend."

Hermione shoved Ron off her who flinched away from her "superhuman strength".

Regulus followed the friends as they made their way back to their tower, joking and laughing as they went.

Thanks to the portraits, word of the altercation quickly circulated throughout the school over the coming week. Students of all years, many who Hermione didn't know, congratulated her in the halls. The attention was a bit overwhelming, though it felt kind of nice to have people acknowledge her. Hermione wondered if this was how Harry felt after winning quidditch games.

Hagrid sent Hermione an enormous bouquet of wildflowers that only a half-giant with full reign of the Forbidden Forest could craft. There was no note attached to the bouquet, but Hermione was still able to understand the message the groundskeeper was communicating. As someone who also suffered from harsh words, it was always nice to know that you had people out there to defend you.

Fred and George made a large show of feeling her biceps whenever the saw her. Whenever she entered the room, the twins announced her arrival as the "Draco Slayer".

Aside from all the positive attention, Hermione was also punished for her actions. Her head of house forbade any contact between her and Malfoy for the rest of the school year. If Hermione were to be within 5 feet of the Slytherin, she was to face "severe consequences" though it wasn't explained what those would be. Hermione had a feeling that the essential restraining order had more to do for her protection than Malfoy's.

Professor McGonagall also took away fifty points from Gryffindor which caused Hermione to cringe. The girl was also assigned a week's detention where she would organize Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout's personal libraries after dinner. The detention was by far better than wandering through the Forbidden Forest, though it still interfered with her study time. She had to use the TimeTurner even more, which was not something she enjoyed doing.

"Have a good night, Professor!" Hermione bid.

"You as well, dearie!" Professor Sprout yawned, waving the young Gryffindor goodbye.

Hermione's arms ached from carrying books. There was a layer of sweat and dust that coated her skin and she felt in dire need of a long shower. She adjusted the strap of her satchel on her shoulder, moving the weight of her books off her curls. She pulled the mass of her hair on top her head, securing it into a bun. A few curls escaped the scrunchie, framing her face. Hermione removed a book from her bag, reading as she walked. Crookshanks, ever loyal, followed beside her as they trudged through the halls lit by the moonlight.

"It's rather late for you to be out of bed."

Hermione jumped and turned to the voice behind her.

"Oh, hello." She said, eyes meeting a shiny prefect badge beside a yellow and black tie.

"It's past curfew, you know."

"I didn't know, actually," Hermione said, giving an embarrassed smile.

The tall boy laughed.

"Why aren't you in bed right now?"

"Well, tonight I'm coming from helping Professor Sprout," Hermione said, trying to avoid confessing that she had been leaving her detention.

"'Tonight'? Are you usually out and about at this hour?" He furrowed his brow.

Hermione's cheeks reddened. "During the weekdays, yes. I'm usually leaving the library."

"By yourself?"

"No, my cat's always with me."

The Hufflepuff prefect looked down at her cat, not very impressed with her protector.

"Let me walk you back to your common room?" He asked, though already walking in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

"My name's Cedric Diggory," He extended his hand. She already knew who he was.

"Hermione Granger," She said, moving her reading book to her left hand. Cedric's large hand felt warm against her ink stained hand.

"Let me carry that for you?" He gestured to her bag. He nearly dropped it when she placed it in his hand.

"Merlin! What do you carry in here?"

Her brown eyes widened. "Just books." She watched him perform a feather-light spell on the bag before carrying the bag on his shoulder.

"I knew you were strong from that bruise you left on Malfoy, but you must be pretty strong to be lugging this thing around. Why haven't you charmed it to be lighter?"

She blushed and tucked a curl behind her ear, "It just never occurred to me." She wondered what other spells she could use on the bag. Maybe something to waterproof it?

Hermione had never interacted with Cedric before, nor had she ever gotten a good look at him. He was incredibly handsome with his wavy brown locks. He had porcelain skin with a spattering of freckles on his strong nose. His shoulders were broad for a seeker, though his build wasn't as big as the other upper-class quidditch players.

The prefect was also much shier than Hermione had thought he would be. Though kind and polite, he didn't say much, making Hermione nervous to break their growing silence.

"It was really nice of you to offer a rematch for the Quidditch match a couple months ago. Even though Harry didn't accept it, I know he really appreciated it," Hermione said.

"That match was so nasty from the beginning, with the downpour and what not. I didn't even see the dementors until after I had caught the snitch. I never would have gone for it if I had known that Harry was down, ya know?"

Hermione nodded.

"It just wasn't a fair match. Though I suppose it all worked out in the end, what with Harry's new Firebolt and everything," He chuckled.

"Yeah," Hermione said, trying to forget about the infamous Firebolt.

They stopped at in front of the Fat Lady.

"Thanks for walking me back, Cedric," she smiled up at him, accepting her now _much_ lighter schoolbag from him. "And for fixing my bag."

"My pleasure," he returned her smile. "I'll see you at the entrance of the library Monday night?"

"You will?"

He shrugged his shoulders, not making eye contact. "Well, yeah. My rounds are Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I don't want you walking back by yourself."

"Monday sounds great," Hermione said, her voice soft.

Cedric let out a sigh, grinning down at the brunette. "Sleep well, Hermione."

"You too," She smiled, watching the boy return to his rounds.

She stood still, clutching her book to her chest. Her stomach was doing flips.

"Out after curfew with a handsome boy, are you now?" The Fat Lady said to her, drawing her out of her reverie.

"Flibbertigibbet," Hermione said, ignoring the portrait.

The door swung open, allowing the girl and her cat into the common room.

"Oh, what it's like to be young and in love!" Hermione heard as the door closed behind them.

* * *

Walking with Ced (that's what all of his friends called him and what he told her to call him) over the next two weeks was nice. He was insightful in ways that Harry and Ron were not. When she left the library, her revisions for finals were still fresh in her mind, so she discussed it with him. He didn't call her a swot, he didn't seem to mind…in fact he seemed excited to discuss her studies. She enjoyed discussing theories with him, as he kept up with her and taught her things that she hadn't known. He gave her advice for her finals and even laughed at Hermione when she asked for advice on how to become a prefect, "you don't need my advice. If anything, I should take notes from you on how I should become Head Boy or Minister of Magic."

Hermione knew she was smart, but Ced made her _feel_ smart. He made her feel funny, and interesting, and appreciated, and capable, and important, and equal to him, and by Godric did he make her feel all warm and fuzzy and giddy inside!

The more time she spent with Ced, the more she discovered about him. Contrary to what she had originally thought: his hair eyes were _not_ brown. No, his hair was milk chocolate with streaks of caramel that had been lightened by the sun. His eyes…oh, his eyes! Every time Hermione explored them she saw more flecks of green than she had before. They were not brown, but hazel.

For the first time since coming to Hogwarts, Hermione didn't feel completely overwhelmed. She felt _good._

A cute boy was talking to her, none of her friends were mad at her, she was doing well in school, she was well-rested!

By the time finals rolled around, Hermione felt more prepared for her tests than she ever had before. She had studied all she could, she was going to do her best on her finals, and if her best wasn't good enough then who cared?

..actually, Hermione cared. She cared _a lot_ and if she scored below an O on any of them then she would probably cry…but that was neither here nor there.

Thankfully, she flew through finals week. The only final she had left was the dreaded Divination final, which she had deliberately saved for last. The Muggle Studies exam had been at the same time, so she felt it best to start off on a high note, take a nap, and use the TimeTurner for Divination.

Honestly, Hermione felt like Divination was a waste of time. She nearly up and walked out during one class. However, Ced told her to just, "fake it till she made it". The idea disturbed Hermione to the core, but she supposed that it was her only option.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron trudged their way up the spiral staircase all the way to the seventh floor. They were surprised to see the line of students outside of Professor Trelawny's classroom.

"She's seeing us all separately," Neville informed them as they went to sit down next to him. He had his copy of _Unfogging the Future_ open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing. "Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?" he asked them unhappily.

"Nope," said Ron in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch; Harry knew that he was counting down the time until Buckbeak's appeal started.

The line of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, "What did she ask? Was it okay?"

But they all refused to say.

"She says the crystal ball's told her that if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" squeaked Neville as he clambered back down the ladder.

"That's convenient," snorted Ron. "You know, I'm starting to think Hermione was right about her"—he jabbed his thumb toward the trapdoor overhead—"she's a right old fraud."

Hermione elbowed Ron, much to Harry's amusement.

"Ronald Weasley," came the misty voice from above.

"Well, here goes nothing," he shrugged, making his way up the silver ladder.

He returned only five minutes later, waving his hand to his friends, "oh, it's a bunch of rubbish" before sitting down on the floor to read more for Buckbeak's appeal.

"Hermione Granger."

 _I just have to fake it till I make it. Ron said it was just a bunch of rubbish_ , Hermione thought before releasing a heavy breath and climbing up.

The atmosphere in the tower was ungodly. Hot, sticky, and smelling of incense. _Godric, my hair is going to be fluffy and smelling of patchouli and rosemary for the rest of the day._

Professor Trelawny sat at a table before a crystal ball. Hermione gingerly took the seat across from the woman.

"Good day, Ms. Granger," she said softly. "If you would gaze into the Orb… Take your time, now…then tell me what you see within it…"

Hermione gazed into the swirling crystal ball. She squinted her eyes and saw what she had seen the entire year… _nothing._ She had no idea what to even do at this point, but this was the last class holding her back from summer vacation.

Her eyes flickered to Professor Trelawny's patterned tunic and robes. Moons, stars, bumblebees.

"I see… the night sky. There's a full moon."

"Yes," Professor Trelawny encouraged the girl.

"Uhm, well, it's in a Forrest clearing. I see a couple butterflies and bees flying around" Hermione wiped the sweat from her brow.

"And?"

"…and…I see a hawthorn bush?"

"Incredible," the woman said. "I understand that must have been difficult for you, as the gift of Sight is not bestowed on you. Though I am impressed with the progress you have made."

Before Hermione could say anything she would later regret, she forced a smile at the professor and climbed back down the ladder.

She joined a seat next to Ron on the ground, shoving her hair into the confines of a scrunchie.

Harry opened his mouth to ask Hermione about the test but was interrupted by the professor calling for him. He gulped and went to take his last final.

"I'm glad all of these exams are over so we can finally relax," Ron said, flipping through his book.

Hermione ignored him, spotting Hagrid's owl make its way towards them. "No…" She breathed.

The owl dropped a letter in between them. Ron tore it open, his eyes frantically searching the page.

"ARGH! THEY CAN'T DO THIS!" He ripped the parchment into shreds.

"Buckbeak?" Hermione asked, tears welling in her eyes.

Red-faced, Ron nodded. "At sunset."

"Looks like Plan B is our only option now," Hermione rubbed her temples. Crookshanks rubbed the side of his body on her leg, purring in an attempt to comfort the young witch.

"'Plan B'? Oh, thank Godric you have a Plan B! I should've known that you would have had a Plan B," Ron laughed. "So…what is this Plan B?"

Harry bolted down the stairs, his face pale and clammy. The two friends stood to greet him, their brows furrowed.

"Professor Trelawny just said that something bad will happen tonight."

Hermione scoffed, "She always says that."

"I think it was real this time!"

"What'd she say, mate?" Ron asked, placing a hand on the trembling boy's shoulder.

"Something about The Dark Lord being alone, but before midnight one of his servants will break free and join him…and that The Dark Lord will grow to be even more terrible than he ever was, but that if The Stars realign then there's hope."

"Do you…do you think that's Sirius Black? The servant who will break free?" Ron looked to Hermione.

"I don't know who else it could be," she said, her voice shaky.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, "What are we going to do?"

Ron, again, looked to Hermione. "I suppose the only thing we can do is go save Buckbeak and talk with Dumbledore about the potential prophecy," she said.

"'Save Buckbeak'?" Harry asked.

Ron fiercely nodded and explained Hagrid's letter. The fear that had only a minute ago consumed the boy was replaced with anger. The trio set out to the Common Room for the invisibility cloak before making their way to dinner. While Ron normally ate at an ungodly fast pace, they had never quite seen him devour food at such a pace before.

After scarfing down their meals, they set out to a nearby empty classroom and waited for the Great Hall to clear.

"So, let me get this straight… Once the Great Hall is empty, we'll make a break for the Entrance Hall to Hagrid's hut," Harry said. "Ron and I will explain the plan to Hagrid."

"…Then you will turn his chicken into a hippogriff, we run away with the Buckbeak, and then release him to the Forbidden Forest?" Ron asked, furrowing his eyebrows and cocking his head.

Hermione held Crookshanks in her arms and stroked his fur, "I really think it'll work."

"I trust you," Harry said, causing Hermione to smile.

Only 10 minutes later was the coast clear. The Gryffindors huddled under the invisibility cloak before shuffling down to Hagrid's.

They reached Hagrid's cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.

"It's us," Harry hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come! I don't want yeh ta see Beaky like this!" Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and they stepped inside.

"He actually thought we'd listen?" Ron whispered.

Once they threw off the cloak, Hermione lunged towards the half-giant and hugged around his middle. Hagrid laid a large palm on her back, his face worn.

"What are yeh lot doin' here?"

"We came to help," Harry answered passionately.

"And how do yeh expect ta do that?"

"Well your chicken's dying, isn't he?" Ron asked.

"Ronald!" Hermione yelled.

Harry quickly explained Plan B to Hagrid as Hermione prepared tea, seeing as Hagrid's hands were noticeably trembling.

"I don't Philip ta die," Hagrid blew his nose in his handkerchief.

Ron mouthed "The chicken's named Philip?" to his friends, grimacing at the name.

"But he really is getting worse, and the only thing I've been able ta do is make him comfortable…" He waved his hand in dismissal, though his expression was pained.

Harry awkwardly placed his hand on the man's enormous shoulder before the trio set towards the back garden. They found the chickens and Buckbeak amongst the pumpkin patch. The three friends crept slowly, raising their hand out as a sign of surrender. Harry deeply bowed to the hippogriff and the other two followed suit.

"We're here to save you," Harry whispered. Buckbeak huffed in response.

Hermione spotted Phillip lying on the ground. His feathers had shed in patches and his left leg was bent at an uncomfortable angle. The chicken gave out a shuddering cough.

"Poor baby." Her heart ached for the small animal. She ran her fingers down his body, though he didn't seem to notice. Taking a deep breath, she began working on the spell that she had spent weeks on.

Phillip's beak elongated, and new feathers appeared on his body. While Hermione found that transfiguring a chicken into a tiny hippogriff was now second nature, the height was her concern. She glanced at Buckbeak, solidifying his image in her head before she continued.

"Merlin," Ron said.

Within seconds, a hippogriff laid in front of them. A sickly-looking hippogriff, but a hippogriff nonetheless. As an afterthought, Hermione placed a sleep, numbing, and calming charm on the bird.

Hermione stood frozen, her hands on her face. "I don't want to sentence Philip to death."

"It's just a chicken, Hermione. Honestly," Ron said.

"It's not just a chicken! It's a life! I'm taking a life!"

She punched him on the arm. He let out a yelp.

"Hermione, he's minutes away from death as it is. This will be better than living out in a pumpkin patch."

"Guys…" Harry said.

Harry had already gathered some of Buckbeak's nearby ferret snacks and made progress on freeing Buckbeak from his restraints. He grabbed the makeshift leash and with much encouragement, guided the stubborn magical creature to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Hurry, Harry. I think I see people leaving the castle," Ron said. Hermione grabbed the invisibility cloak draped over Harry's shoulder and threw it over herself and the two boys. Harry's arm remained visible as they walked.

"Alright, here's your stop," Ron said as they stood on the outskirts of the forest. While the sun was only setting, Hermione felt chills gazing into the darkened woods.

"We're only trying to help you. You have to go into the Forbidden Forest now if you want to survive, and you've got to go now. Hagrid said that there are more hippogriffs in there that you can become friends with." The hippogriff stared down at Harry's invisible form. "Please…Beaky," Harry said, and extended the last dead ferret he had.

Buckbeak accepted the snack and proudly marched into the forest. The Gryffindors all released the breaths they had been holding in.

"Alright, so what now?" Ron asked.

"I think we should go talk to a professor about what Professor Trelawny told Harry. Maybe Professor McGonagall?" Hermione said.

"Guys…" Harry said.

Ron shook his head, "She'll probably dismiss it as a fake premonition like you did. No offense."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Saying "no offense" does not invalidate something as being offe-"

"Guys, I think that's Scabbers on the windowpane," He squinted through his round spectacles.

Something rustled in the forest right behind the trio. Suddenly two blurs shot out infront of them, bolting right towards the rat.

"Bear!" Harry shouted at the same time Hermione yelled, "Crookshanks!"

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you all are doing well! I know the holiday season can be hard for some people as their families may be problematic and school can be overwhelming, so feel free to message me at any time if you guys need anyone to talk to. And even if you don't feel comfortable enough to message me, know that my heart is with you and I (and so many others) support you no matter your ethnicity/sexuality/gender/beliefs/appearance! Please treat your bodies well this season, no matter how much food you consume, you still deserve to eat.

Be kind to yourselves! You matter!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and I take no credit for her work. Excerpts from her books are included periodically to keep this fanfic somewhat close to cannon. I also incorporate theories I have heard/seen throughout the years on social media platforms. I own nothing. **Reminder: this is an M rated fanfic for the depiction of war, language, and adult themes.**

* * *

Scabbers squeaked at the appearance of Bear and Crookshanks. Realizing he was prey, threw himself off the ledge of the window. His grand escape was cut short by the jet-black dog who caught the rat in its mouth and dashed towards the Whomping Willow.

The three students chased after their pets heading to the ferocious tree. Bear narrowly dodged the flailing branches and disappeared into a hole at the base of the tree.

"What the fu-" a branch slammed down on Ron's leg. He howled in pain.

Hermione and Harry ran to their friend, though were stopped by branches of their own. While Harry dodged the majority of the branches, Hermione was not as lucky. One branch's leaves whipped her forehead, the gash bleeding down her face. Another had swung to her stomach, knocking all the air out of her. Instead of falling from the impact, she held onto the limb with her arms and legs. It was by far worse than any broom she had ever ridden.

"Help!" She yelled.

Crookshanks darted forward. He slithered between the battering branches like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk. Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook.

Hermione let go of the branch and dropped to the ground below. Her ankles stung from the force, but she made her way to Ron. He laid on his back, face beet red as he held in his breath.

Hermione dropped to her knees beside him. "How bad does it hurt?" She asked.

"Like a paper cut," Ron said, silent tears streaming down his face.

"What are we going to do?" Harry asked.

"We can't all fit under the Invisibility cloak and walk back to the castle, but we can't stay out here. It's getting dark and Sirius Black is still on the loose," Hermione said.

"I want Scabbers," Ron groaned, pointing to where Crookshanks stood beside the opening where Bear and Scabbers had gone.

"Scabbers is the least of our concerns right now!" Hermione said.

"Hermione…" Harry said. "We can try to find Scabbers and hide in there until morning?" He suggested.

"I don't think that we should leave his leg unattended for that long," she said.

"Wizards heal quickly. One-time Charlie broke his arm because he was doing something he wasn't supposed to, and mum didn't find out for three days."

Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples. "Do you want me to put the same charms I used on Philip on you?"

Ron's lower lip trembled, and he let in a great sniffle. He gave a pathetic nod. "Can you keep me awake until we get settled?"

Hermione patted his hand before casting a numbing and calming charm on the ginger. She shrugged off her jacket and made to wrap it around Ron's leg. Harry placed a hand on her arm to stop her.

"We can use my jacket instead," He said, handing over his jacket. "You're always cold and my body temperature runs warm. It's not a big deal."

She gave him a soft smile and grabbed his jacket. "Ron, you can hold Harry's hand for this part." Quickly, she tied Harry's jacket tightly around his leg.

"Blimey!' He shouted.

"It's not good by any means, but it'll do for the next couple of hours."

Harry and Hermione each grabbed one of his arms and dragged him to the base of the tree. Ron let out a whimper when his bad leg hit a rock.

"Sorry, mate," Harry panted out.

Crookshanks' piercing eyes watched the friends as they arrived at the hole. Hermione's arms were shaking.

"Will you come with us?" her voice shallow. Her cat let out a quiet meow before hopping into the hole.

"I'll go in first and let you know what I see," Harry said, sounding much more confident than he looked.

Harry went next; he crawled forward, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from Harry's wand.

"It's a tunnel!" He yelled above.

"Do you think Ron can make it?"

"I think so, just be careful."

Hermione stood and made her way behind Ron and gripped his wrists tightly. Slowly, gravity eased him into the hole where Harry reached for the boy's waist.

"Harry, at least take me out to dinner first," Ron said as his friend helped him down. Harry snorted.

Seconds later Hermione joined the two boys.

"I think you put a little too much force in the calming charm. Ron's acting like he's had one too many butterbeers."

"Probably for the best," she said as she observed her surroundings.

"Where do you think this tunnel leads?" Ron asked, looking at the earthy walls.

"Crookshanks seems to know," Harry said. He eyed the cat who had just wandered out of his sight. "We should follow him."

"I don't know, Harry. We should just settle in and stay with Ron."

"Harry can carry me along. He's a star Quidditch player, I'm sure he'll be able to." Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry let out a laugh.

"You were right about the charm. He's like himself, but worse," She helped Ron stand so that Harry could carry the injured boy on his back.

"You need to stop eating everything in sight at dinner," Harry grunted.

"What? I'm a growing boy," Ron said.

Hermione stepped in front of the boys, the tip of her wand illuminated their path. Their crouching backs ached as they walked further and further.

"Where does this tunnel come out?" Ron asked through a yawn.

"I don't know… It's marked on the Marauder's Map, but Fred and George said no one's ever gotten into it… It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it was heading for Hogsmeade…"

On and on went the passage; it felt at least as long as the one to Honeydukes… And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted. A patch of dim light through a small opening.

Hermione and Harry paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. Both raised their wands to see what lay beyond.

It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.

Harry glanced at Hermione whose eyebrows were downturned with worry. Despite this, she nodded at him with pursed lips.

Harry eased Ron off his back. Hermione held onto the boy and helped him lean against the tunnel's walls.

Harry pulled himself out of the hole, staring around. The room was deserted, but a door to their right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. He reached down for Ron and tugged the boy up with a grunt.

Hermione crawled in and suddenly grabbed Harry's arm. Her wide eyes were traveling around the boarded windows.

"Harry," she whispered, "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack."

Harry looked around. His eyes fell on a wooden chair near them. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.

"Ghosts didn't do that," Ron said slowly.

At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. They looked up at the ceiling. Hermione's grip on Harry's arm was so tight he was losing feeling in his fingers. He raised his eyebrows at her. "It might just be Bear," he whispered.

She nodded at him, though her heart continued to race. She helped Ron onto Harry's back once more.

"Watch where you're putting those hands, 'Mione." Despite being terrified, Harry could barely hold back a chuckle at Ron's words. Hermione smacked them both upside the heads.

Quietly as they could, they crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs. Hermione couldn't help from glancing over her shoulder every couple of seconds.

They reached the dark landing. Harry was breathing heavily at this point, the veins in his arms protruding as he gripped Ron's legs.

"Nox," Hermione whispered. Only one door was open. Hermione and Harry exchanged a last look, a last nod. Hermione stood in a defensive stance, wand fixed in front of her, albeit shaking slightly. Ron followed her lead and rose his wand over Harry's shoulder, looking like a knight on his noble stead ready to charge into battle.

Holding tightly to Ron, Harry kicked the door wide open.

On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of them. On the floor beside him sat a scrawny man shaking Scabbers furiously.

"Oye! Who do you think you are to be grabbing at a man's rat like that!" Ron yelled over Harry's shoulder. Hermione really had added too much punch behind his calming charm.

The long-haired man looked up at them. He was a gaunt man, with his eyes sunken and cheekbones prominent. While his hair was well kept and rather shiny, the lines decorating his face made him appear older. If Hermione had to guess the age of the strange man, she would have suspected mid-thirties. Though if she were to guess the sanity of the man…she would have suspected it to be barely present.

"Why I'm Sirius Black," he said, revealing a toothy grin. Hermione sucked in a breath his words.

"More like seriously stupid. I know they don't teach manners in Azkaban, but you can't go kidnapping other people's pets."

"Ronald!" Hermione yelled.

Harry ignored his friends. "Where's Bear? Did you kill him?"

Sirius smiled at Harry. "No, I didn't kill him. I am him."

The room filled with silence. Hermione's eyes furrowed, staring at the familiar jet-black curls and silver eyes.

"…He's an Animagus." Hermione said, gripping her wand tightly. "Like Professor McGonagall. He can turn into a dog. He turned into Bear…My god, he lived with us!"

Sirius barked out a laugh, "That's probably the first time someone has compared me to Minnie."

Ron slid off Harry's back. "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke. Both of his arms painfully clutched each of his friends for support.

Something flickered in Sirius's shadowed eyes.

"Sit down," he said to Ron, still clutching Scabbers in his fist. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, "You'll have to kill all three of us!"

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Sirius, and his grin widened.

"Why's that?" Harry spat. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew… What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Both of you! Be quiet!" Hermione said, her eyes never leaving the escaped convict on the floor.

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and lunged forward, causing Ron to stumble onto Hermione—

Harry punched the man across the face.

Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling. Harry punched every part of Sirius he could find.

But Sirius did something Harry hadn't expected. Sirius hugged him. Harry scrambled up and walked backwards to his friends. His face gaped at the man.

Through all the chaos and adrenaline, the students hadn't heard the approaching footsteps.

"Sirius Black," said a deep voice from behind them.

"Remus Lupin," Sirius grinned.

There stood the students' favorite teacher, shivering in his raggedy jacket with crooked elbow patches.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

"Here!" Sirius gave a childlike laugh, shaking the fist still gripping the rat.

"But then…," Remus muttered, staring at Sirius so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "…why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless"—Remus's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Sirius, something none of the rest could see, "—unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?"

Very slowly, Sirius nodded.

"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on—?"

But he never finished the question, because what he saw made his voice die in his throat. Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixedly at Sirius. The Professor walked to Sirius's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Sirius like a brother.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed. He was their ally. He was their _friend._ He exuded warmth and happiness. He gave them advice on spells, on life. And there he was, arm and arm with the deranged man who had murdered Harry's parents and innocent muggles… And he planned on killing Harry tonight. _Maybe Trelawney isn't crazy after all._

Remus let go of Sirius and turned to her. She was now pointing her wand at Remus, wild-eyed. "You—you—"

"Hermione—"

"—you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down—"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you—"

"Hermione, listen to me, please!" Remus shouted. "I can explain—"

"I trusted you," Harry shouted at Remus, his voice wavering out of control and body shaking with fury, "and all the time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," said Remus. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now—Let me explain…"

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too—he's a werewolf!"

There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Remus, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

Remus forced a laugh. "You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

"I'm not," Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know," said Remus. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," said Remus. "Professor Snape brews the Wolfsbane potion for me to take right before every full moon. Dumbledore had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy—"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!" He was pointing at Sirius, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. Crookshanks leaped up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring.

"Oh, fuck that cat!" Ron threw his hands in the air before quickly grasping his friends. He had momentarily forgotten that his entire balance depended on his arms holding onto something.

"I have not been helping Sirius," said Remus. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look—"

"If you haven't been helping him," he said, with a furious glance at Sirius, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," said Remus. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it—"

"You know how to work it?" Harry said suspiciously.

"Of course, I know how to work it," said Remus, waving his hand impatiently. "The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?"

He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.

"You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry—"

"How d'you know about the cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it…," said Remus, waving an impatient hand again. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut, leave to the edge of the Forbidden Forrest, and then head towards someone."

"What?" said Harry. "No, we didn't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," said Remus, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Harry.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black… I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled the person into the Whomping Willow—"

"No one else was there, only Scabbers!" Ron said angrily.

"Peter Pettigrew was," Remus said.

"Pettigrew is dead!"

"He's alive and he's in this room."

Then Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice if they weren't in a situation with a werewolf and crazed prisoner, "Professor, please, please tell me that rat isn't who I think it is."

"Oooh, cleverest witch of her age is catching up," Sirius smiled as he pet the cat with one hand, still holding the rat with the other.

Remus' lips were in a harsh line, "Peter Pettigrew's body was never found…only a finger of him remained at the scene."

"And guess what rat only has 9 fingers?" Sirius asked, waving the rat's paw mockingly. Four toes, the trio counted.

"This has to be a sick joke," Ron whispered.

Sirius turned his head to Harry, "Your father, James, and his family took me in during my 6th year. We were like brothers. That's why he entrusted me as Secret Keeper for his house when him and your mother went into hiding. Though, at last minute, I convinced them to use Pettigrew as Secret Keeper. Everyone knew that your father and I were brothers, even Voldemort."

"Prove that it was Pettigrew and not you who betrayed Harry's parents," Hermione said, her wand shaky, but pointed directly at Sirius.

"What do we have here?" came a sneer from the doorway. Harry, Ron, and Hermione jumped in shock. Snape pointed his wand at Sirius and Remus. "Gryffindors acting stupid? How unusual. Looks like I was right about you all along, werewolf. Pity that Dumbledore didn't believe me that you were a traitor."

Hermione took an uncertain step toward Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape—it—it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w—would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

"But if—if there was a mistake and Pettigrew was alive—"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Sirius's face. Hermione fell silent.

"You're going to get the dementor's kiss tonight," Snape said to the men.

"Expelliarmus!"

Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.

All three of the students had disarmed Snape at the same time.

"We attacked a teacher… We attacked a teacher…," Hermione whimpered, staring at the lifeless Snape with frightened eyes. "Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble—"

"More trouble than the current situation at hand?" Ron snorted, warily eyeing both of the grown men before them. Sirius was shaking Scabbers again.

"Leave my rat alone! He's been through enough this year, what with that mad cat-" he gestured to Crookshanks absentmindedly grooming himself.

"This cat isn't mad," said Sirius hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks's fluffy head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. He's been helping me." Crookshanks purred.

"Er—Mr. Black—Sirius?" said Hermione.

Sirius jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her.

"If you wouldn't mind, could you, uhm, maybe show us the proof?"

"Hold him still, would you?" Remus said. A flash of blue-white light erupted from his wand. Before them, Scabbers grew into a short, plump man with balding hair. Scabbers had turned into Peter Pettigrew.

"S—Sirius… R—Remus…" Pettigrew squeaked. His eyes darted toward the door. "My friends… my old friends…"

"Shut the fuck up!" Sirius growled.

He looked at Harry, who did not look away.

"Believe me," croaked Sirius. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

And at long last, Harry believed him. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded.

"No!"

Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Harry's nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, groveling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Sirius. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Sirius and Remus stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.

"You should have realized," said Remus quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."

Hermione covered her face with her hands, her rapid breaths made her head feel fuzzy.

"NO!" Harry yelled. He ran forward, placing himself in front of Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't. We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the dementors… He can go to Azkaban… but don't kill him."

"Harry!" gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You—thank you—it's more than I deserve—thank you—"

"Don't fucking touch him!" Ron shot a toe bitter jinx at Pettigrew who recoiled immediately.

Remus gathered Snape's wand and threw it to Sirius, nodding his head at the unconscious Potions professor. Remus grabbed Pettigrew by the back of his neck as Sirius levitated Snape's body. The men headed towards the entrance of the earthy tunnel, following Crookshanks along the way. Harry and Hermione followed behind them, wrapping an arm around Ron between them.

"You know what this means?" Sirius said abruptly to Harry as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," said Harry.

"Yes…," said Sirius. "But I'm also—I don't know if anyone ever told you—I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," said Harry.

"Well… your parents appointed me your guardian," said Sirius stiffly. "If anything happened to them…I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle, but… well… think about it. Once my name's cleared… if you wanted a… a different home…"

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach.

"I ‑‑‑ I'd love to," he stuttered.

"You want to?" he said. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" said Harry.

Sirius's gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at Harry's parents' wedding.

They did not speak again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Remus, Pettigrew, and Sirius clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches.

"I can't wait to get to bed," Ron gave a heavy sigh.

"You and me both, mate," Harry said, still faintly smiling from his conversation with his godfather. He lifted himself up out of the tunnel, reaching for Ron as he had previously. Hermione gave out a grunt as she pushed the ginger up. Harry gripped his friend's arms and hoisted him up, before doing the same for Hermione.

Harry and Hermione brushed the dirt off their hands and helped Ron to his good foot, and he slung his arms around them once more. Once the trio was ready to start their final trek to the castle, they noticed something alarming.

Remus had gone tense. His back was crouching, and his arms twitching as moonlight trickled in from the treetops.

"Run," Sirius whispered. "Run. Now."

"How in Merlin's saggy left nut do you expect me to do that?" Ron exclaimed.

"I'll take care of you. Harry, Hermione—RUN!"

There was a terrible snarling noise. Remus's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks's hair was on end again; he was backing away—

As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from Harry's side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other—

However, Hermione's focus was on Pettigrew. She let out a scream.

Pettigrew had dived for Remus's dropped wand and transformed into Scabbers. The rat ran faster than any of them had ever seen, zipping through the tall grass. Harry and Hermione's eyes flickered from Pettigrew escaping, the morphing werewolf fighting their pet dog, to Ron who was crippled.

Crookshanks yowled, his silver eyes illuminated in the full moon staring into Hermione's. _Hermione, you and Harry need to get out of here. I'll take care of Pettigrew. Sirius will take care of Ron. You need to take care of each other. GET. OUT._

Hermione's eyes widened at the deep voice that must have belonged to her pet. The large cat pounced in the direction that Pettigrew had run. Not letting another second pass, Hermione gripped Harry's arm. "C'mon," she said.

Harry nodded, gulping at the chaos around them. They turned in the opposite direction, bolting towards the lake.

Hermione had never felt her legs move so fast, yet seemingly in slow motion. Her arms moved with every step. Fire scorched through her lungs as the crisp night air filled them. Her heart felt as though it were to surely burst out of her chest at any given moment.

Harry stayed at her side, though she knew he could have outrun her by now.

When they reached the lakeshore, neither one of them had anticipated the level change. Harry stumbled on the sand and took Hermione down with him. She rose to her hands and knees, gasping for breath. Her body tingled with adrenaline, though her limbs felt like jelly.

Coldness filled them through them like liquid nitrogen in their veins.

"We can't stop," Harry told her.

She frantically nodded. _I don't know if I can do this,_ she thought.

"Hermione," Harry croaked, looking up at the inky sky in horror. He had heard their presence before he had seen it, knowing the panicked scream of his mother's all too well.

Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. He rose to his feet and spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them…

"Expecto patronum! Hermione, help me! I know you can! Expecto patronum!" His mother's pained cry grew louder.

Hermione, still recovering on the ground, rose her wand to help Harry. "Expecto patronum!" she cried. Nothing happened. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Nothing. _What do I do? What's wrong with me?_

The dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around Harry and Hermione, and were getting closer…

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry yelled, trying to blot the screaming from his ears. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A thin wisp of silver escaped his wand and hovered like mist before him.

He let out a cry, "Hermione, help!" His face

"I can't!" She screamed in frustration. Her small, sweaty hand gripped his ankle.

Harry felt a small surge of energy buzz from her hand and trickle up through his body. He glanced down, seeing a faint hum of gold mist shine in the darkness. The color was similar to the glow from when they became blood brothers in her kitchen only a year ago.

"Mr. Potter!" a voice yelled in the distance.

That was the best summer of his life, and he had been so excited to return to the Grangers'. Though this year he supposed he may spend it with Sirius, too. Either way, he would spend it with family. _Family._

"Mr. Potter!"

With all the strength he could muster, Harry growled out the spell one more time. His arm shot out like a whip, the magical vibration from Hermione ever present, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A majestic silver stag shot out, prancing into existence. The King of The Forrest charged into battle, stabbing his antlers into the Dementors. Left and right it wove, annihilating all in its path. It was hauntingly beautiful to watch as the single stag fought the sea of cloaked creatures.

Harry knelt to Hermione and hugged her shaking form. His glasses skewed as he buried his head into her frizzy curls.

"Everything is okay," she told him. Lily Potter's screams had left his head, but the heaviness it left on his heart had not. Hermione's three words, coupled with the gravity of the night— of his life…

His entire weight fell into Hermione as sobs racked through his body. Hermione's arms wrapped around her friend she was desperately trying to hold them both upright. Her eyes snapped open wide at a rustle in the grass.

Over Harry's shoulder stood Professor McGonagall. Tension she hadn't known she was holding left her body. _Okay, now everything's actually okay._

Hermione saw McGonagall sniffle as she watched her students.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," she addressed softly.

Harry's head shot up, his heart rate skyrocketing.

"Come along now. I'm taking you both to Madam Pomfrey."

Weakly, the two stumbled off the ground and followed their Head of House towards the castle.

"I'm revoking 75 points each from the two of you and Mr. Weasley for being out after curfew. 100 points each for assaulting a professor."

 _-525._ Hermione whimpered.

"However, I am also rewarding 50 points each for demonstrating commendable bravery, 50 points each for strong integrity…and 200 points for an incredible Patronus charm, Mr. Potter."

 _-25_.

"What's our punishment, Professor?" Harry asked.

McGonagall merely cast a look at the shuffling two teens, watching their continuous cycle of yawns.

"I thought that perhaps the entire night was punishment enough. Unless you disagree?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, Professor. We don't disagree."

The corners of McGonagall's lips quirked upward. They entered the castle and walked along the stone corridors.

"How did you find us?"

"Why, your cat interrupted Headmaster Dumbledore's and my meeting. He ran and threw the rat on top of a Sneakoscope the Headmaster had on his desk. Quite clever, that cat is," she said as she opened the Infirmary's door for them. "Once we ran through a list of spells, we were surprised to discover Peter Pettigrew…Even more surprised that the first names he had out of his mouth were Mr. Black, Professor Lupin, and you, Mr. Potter."

McGonagall placed her hands on Harry and Hermione's shoulders. "I suggest that unless you're suffering from anything too serious, you might want to take your potions in your dormitory, as Professor Snape is bound to wake up in three hours." She nodded to a cot in the corner concealed by drawn curtains.

Harry made a face before wandering over to Madam Pomfrey who stood beside a sleeping Ron.

"Miss Granger, I suppose this is no better time than any to ask for you to return my necklace," she said, extending her hand out to the student.

Hermione frowned and slowly removed the timeturner from her neck. It had been nice—amazing, even, to be able to do everything she had wanted to do. Her fingers lingered on the hourglass as she dropped it into her professor's open palm.

McGonagall thanked her and wished her students a good night.

"Uhm…Professor McGonagall?" Hermione wrung her hands. "Is it… _normal_ for an animal to speak to you?"

McGonagall smiled at the girl, "Not normal, no. But it is uniquely possible for pets to become familiars through a special bond. It is understood through folklore for these animals to be able to communicate of sorts to their witch or wizard. I have heard that Headmaster Dumbledore's familiar, Fawkes, can communicate to him by projecting emotions."

Hermione nodded slowly, chewing on her lip. Her heart stopped. Goosebumps rose on her skin. "Though, they don't communicate explicitly? Like with words?"

"No, I'm afraid not. The only magic involving the projection of words is through Legillimency The Wampus cat can perform it. However, it is typically exclusive to witches and wizards who actively practice the art. They can not only read thoughts, but project thoughts as well." She waved her hand dismissively. "I'll see you at breakfast, Miss Granger," She smiled and left.

Hermione glanced at the shadow of Professor Snape's sleeping form. She just wanted the night to be over. She pulled at her hair. _I won't be able to go to sleep unless I figure it out._

With an aggravated sigh, she hurried out of the Infirmary before Harry or Madam Pomfrey could stop her. Her head was entirely too fuzzy to process what she was doing. However, her feet, familiar with the path she took her second year, guided her to Professor Snape's private potions and potions ingredient cabinet.

 _First, I spell him, now this? I'm so dead._

She found just what she needed, ironically, before the Wolfsbane Potion. She used the dropper to place some of the potion into a tiny vile. Cleaning her tracks, Hermione put the potion and dropper back and raced out of the cabinet.

"Meow" greeted her in the hallway.

She let out a shriek. Her and grasped at her chest.

"Crooks! You scared me!"

The large cat's tail flicked from side to side.

"I—uh, I need to stop by the empty classroom upstairs really quick before I head to bed. I think I left one of my good quills up there."

Tiny footsteps followed her as she forced her heavy legs up the staircase. _What am I going to do if I'm right?_

The witch and her cat entered her favorite empty classroom, not a quill in sight.

"Stupefy!"

The cat fell limply to the ground.

"I'm sorry, love," She whispered, placing him in a chair.

She cast the blue-white spell Professor Lupin had used only an hour ago. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest.

Before her eyes, her beloved Crookshanks' body grew. His hair grew long, dark, and curly. His arms and his legs grew longer. Within 10 seconds, Crookshanks no longer sat in the chair. No, a man sat in the chair. Possibly early twenties, maybe even mid-twenties. Either way, there was a man in the chair, a man who had lived with her for the past nine months. A man who spent nearly every waking second with her. A man who slept beside her in bed every night.

"Bloody hell." Hermione didn't even have it in her to feel surprised by these things anymore. Exasperated, maybe? Furious? Disturbed?

She flicked her wand and locked the door behind them before casting ropes to confine the man. Using the potion drops she stole from Professor Snape, she simply dumped the entire contents of Veritaserum into the stranger's mouth.

"Rennervate!"

The man blinked a couple times before his silver eyes finally focused on the girl with her wand held at his neck.

"Who are you?"

 _Fuck_ , Regulus thought.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and have a wonderful weekend. Lemme know your thoughts, what you liked, what you didn't like, what you're excited to see in future chapters.

Be kind to yourselves!

-SSE


	10. Chapter 10

_Hermione glanced at the shadow of Professor Snape's sleeping form. She just wanted the night to be over. She pulled at her hair. I won't be able to go to sleep unless I figure it out._

 _With an aggravated sigh, she hurried out of the Infirmary before Harry or Madam Pomfrey could stop her. Her head was entirely too fuzzy to process what she was doing. However, her feet, familiar with the path she took her second year, guided her to Professor Snape's private potions and potions ingredient cabinet._

 _First, I spell him, now this? I'm so dead._

 _She found just what she needed, ironically, before the Wolfsbane Potion. She used the dropper to place some of the potion into a tiny vile. Cleaning her tracks, Hermione put the potion and dropper back and raced out of the cabinet._

 _"Meow" greeted her in the hallway._

 _She let out a shriek. Her and grasped at her chest._

 _"Crooks! You scared me!"_

 _The large cat's tall flicked from side to side._

 _"I—uh, I need to stop by the empty classroom upstairs really quick before I head to bed. I think I left one of my good quills up there."_

 _Tiny footsteps followed her as she forced her heavy legs up the staircase. What am I going to do if I'm right?_

 _The witch and her cat entered her favorite empty classroom, not a quill in sight._

 _"Stupefy!"_

 _The cat fell limply to the ground._

 _"I'm sorry, love," She whispered, placing him in a chair._

 _She cast the blue-white spell Professor Lupin had used only an hour ago. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest._

 _Before her eyes, her beloved Crookshanks's body grew. His hair grew long, dark, and curly. His arms and his legs grew longer. Within a 10 seconds Crookshanks no longer sat in the chair. No, a man sat in the chair. Possibly early twenties, maybe even mid-twenties. Either way, there was a man in the chair, a man who had lived with her for the past nine months. A man who spent nearly every waking second with her. A man who slept beside her in bed every night._

 _"Bloody hell." Hermione didn't even have it in her to feel surprised by these things anymore. Exasperated, maybe? Furious? Disturbed?_

 _She flicked her wand and locked the door behind them before casting ropes to confine the man. Using the potion drops she stole from Professor Snape, she simply dumped the entire contents of Veritaserum into the stranger's mouth._

 _"Rennervate!"_

 _The man blinked a couple times before his silver eyes finally focused on the girl with her wand held at his neck._

 _"Who are you?"_

 _Fuck, Regulus thought._

"Who are you?"

The man blinked groggily at her, his silver eyes glazed.

Hermione shot the zapping spell she had seen the Weasley twins use countless of times. "Who are you?"

The man yelped. "My name is Regulus Arcturus Black."

"Are you a pedophile?"

"No!"

Her brows furrowed. "'Black'? Are you related to Sirius Black?" She asked, eyes flickering to his wavy hair and distinctive eyes.

"I am his younger brother." The words fell from his mouth.

"How much younger?"

"Three years."

"That would make you nearly 35…" She frowned. "Why do you look 20?"

"I've been living in my Animagus form in a magical cage for about 15 years. I imagine it kept me younger than Sirius, who was in and out of forms in prison, and Pettigrew who completely embodied a rat."

"Was this some sort of elaborate group plan to live as Animagi?"

"No, I thought I was the only one and actually felt quite ingenious for having the idea."

She thinned her lips as calculatedly scanned the man. His tattered clothes limply hung on his form. Her eyes caught on his inner left forearm.

Hermione's wand shook even more despite her desperate attempt to steady it.

"You're a Death Eater," she breathed.

"I'm a former Death Eater."

"What makes one a 'former Death Eater'?"

Hermione watched as Regulus visibly attempted to fight against the potion. "Betraying the Dark Lord will do it."

"Why did you betray him?"

"He nearly killed my house-elf."

"…you defied an extreme fascist terrorist because he hurt your house-elf?"

"He was also murdered people, but yes; I defied him because he hurt my house-elf."

"How did you betray him?"

This question in particular the man did not want to answer she noted. The vein in his throat throbbed.

"I tried to make him mortal."

"…you're implying that he's immortal."

"I am."

"Explain."

He grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut. "I believe that he has dabbled in magic darker than anything the average witch or wizard knows. The Dark Lord is a dangerous man…a dangerous _thing_ , who will stop at nothing to continue his reign. I'm nearly positive he's created a horcrux to achieve this."

"What's a _horcrux_?" Hermione asked. She didn't like the way the word felt in her mouth. She especially didn't like the way Regulus gulped when they spoke of it.

"A horcrux an object that contains a fragment of a dark witch or wizard's soul. It roots them to the living world, essentially making them immortal. It's a wicked act. You have to kill someone to create it."

She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. "Why do you think he has created a horcrux?"

"Horcruxes," he corrected her.

"You think-?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Tears welled in his eyes. Hermione watched as he choked back a sob.

"He asked to borrow my house-elf. I was young, dumb, scared. He took Kreacher to a cave and left him for dead. When Kreacher returned to me and explained what he saw- what he _felt_ …it all started to make sense. Kreacher took me to the cave. I tried to get him to leave me and take the horcrux with him, but he wouldn't! He saved me. I left the horcrux with him, obliviated him, and have been living in my Animagus form since."

Regulus's dirty pale face had grown flushed by the end of his story. His chest heaved with the emotion he was struggling to restrain.

"How is Sirius involved in this?"

"He's not. I convinced everyone that I am dead. I am untraceable, not even my brother's old map can find me."

"If he's not involved, then why did you help him with Pettigrew?"

"Because he's my brother," he sniffed.

"Who are you loyal to?"

"My brother, my house-elf, people who don't kill kids. People who don't hate others based on blood."

Hermione sighed, feeling the exhaustion of the day take its toll on her body. Seeing that his eyes were progressively becoming less glazed, she knew that she needed to get in the last of her questions.

"Have you ever thought about harming me or any of my friends?"

"No. I've only thought of scratching Ron."

"What are your future plans?"

"To locate the horcruxes and destroy them."

Her wand arm grew heavy. She felt unsteady on her feet, "If you ever hurt anyone I love, I will kill you," she said.

While Hermione hadn't been the one under Veritaserum, Regulus knew she was telling the truth. He nodded back at her.

She released the ropes binding him. "I will keep your secret and let you continue being my cat, but there are rules: you **cannot** sleep in my bed anymore. You are **not** allowed into my bedrooms without permission first. You are to sleep in the living room at my house and in the Common Room when we are at the castle."

"I understand."

"In exchange, I want to help with finding the horcruxes."

"I don't think that's a-"

"I can go to Dumbledore right now and tell him what I've discovered."

The man scowled. Silence passed over them.

"Fine."

She watched as his expression grew incredibly focused before he slowly morphed back into her beloved feline.

"You're going to have to teach me wandless magic, too."

He let out a grumpy meow as he trotted alongside her back to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

It was disconcerting how everything could be the same yet so different. Hermione sat curled up on the loveseat beside her mom, smiling at the game show that played on the television.

Hogwarts had a familiar air to it that buzzed excitement. However, home was warm, calm, and _normal._ She hadn't realized just how much she missed it until she had sat at the dinner table eating the homemade vegetable soup and fluffy bread her father had prepared.

Her two separate worlds had started to merge, however, as Sirius and Lupin brought Harry over and joined them for dinner the past two Fridays. While Remus had left Hogwarts via floo following his dismissal from teaching, Sirius stood at Platform 9 ¾ with the confidence of a man who hadn't been considered Undesirable #1 merely 48 hours prior. Thankfully, the Daily Prophet had covered Sirius's innocence the day before. However, it did little to prevent the open stares he received as he collected his godson from the Hogwarts Express.

While they were only two weeks into summer vacation, Harry positively radiated from his time living at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Lupin. Every time the two friends saw one another he would relay some fantastic story about the dilapidated mansion and the crazy places Sirius had taken him that week. Sirius promised her and her parents that once the repairs on the mansion were complete, the Grangers were more than welcome for weekly Sunday brunches.

Hermione was happy for Harry and the future that laid before him, but it was difficult for her to shake off the past year…or years. Her parents had closed their practice for two days to have an extended weekend of just the three of them, but when they were at work and she was home alone it was difficult for her to not become overwhelmed by her thoughts. To make matters worse, she wasn't truly alone. No, merely a room away sat a reformed Death Eater who had been her cat for a full year. You know, just average teenage girl problems.

She couldn't fight the lump in her throat, the burning in her nose, or the tears that welled up. Hermione glanced over at her mom whose face was illuminated by the glow of the television.

"Mom…can I start schooling?"

"You're already in school," she said, still watching the tv.

"No, but like Muggle school."

"Like Muggle school?" She turned to her daughter. She saw Hermione's lip tremble. "Oh, love." She wrapped her arms around her daughter.

"This year was just so- so hard. I just want an option. I need to know that I can go to university if I want to."

"You need to know that you can be a muggle if you want to."

While Hermione was Muggle-born and knew that no witches or wizards were in her family tree, she often wondered whether her mother actually possessed some form of Sight. The woman could be eerily intuitive at times.

She nodded her head.

Her mother squeezed her tightly and kissed her curls. "I'll see what courses or tutors I can find for this summer."

The two stayed in their embrace for a while, the only sounds heard was the laugh track from the television and her dad's snores from the recliner.


End file.
